Dragon Tamer
by claidibabaa
Summary: Determined to enter and succeed in the world of Dragon Taming, Hermione Granger decides to impersonate as a man in order to realize her goals. What she didn't count on however was having to work for one Draco Malfoy. COMPLETE
1. She's a Man

**Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter and the associated characters and storylines belong to JK Rowling. I am not making any profit from this endeavor.**

**A/N: The concept of this story is sort of inspired by Lilycat's Hermann/Hermione, and also the excellent HK movie 'He's a woman. She's a man', but taken a bit further, with of course a different storyline…**

**DRAGON TAMER **

**by claidibabaa**

**Chapter 1: She's a Man**

Hermione was tempted to pull out her hair and scream. It was just so infuriating! This was already the fifth or so interview she had attended, and the response was always the same; a condescending, "Dearie, you certainly have the qualifications, but don't you think that this is a bit too dangerous for a wee lass like you?"

While the Wizarding World, despite all of its affectations of clinging to the past, was indeed quite modern in its outlook, Hermione Granger was fast discovering that the vocation of Dragon Taming was certainly still stuck in the dark ages.

_So much for equal opportunity!_ She fumed. _Why I ought to write a letter of complaint to the ministry!_ She apparated with a loud pop outside 12, Grimmauld Place, where she had lived with Harry and Ron for almost two years now, stomping up the stairs and almost ripping the door off its hinges as she muttered obscenities under her breath.

The loud bang from the door roused Ron, who had been draped over the comfortable leather sofa in the sitting room of the former Black residence, snoring away as the mid-afternoon sun shone on his face.

"Wha? What's going on?" He mumbled incoherently, glancing around wildly before his gaze finally settled on Hermione's furious expression.

Harry, who had been reading the newspaper on the armchair folded it away and looked up at her in sympathy, "Another rejection huh?"

"Yes!" she spat, "Another bloody great rejection! The stupid fools just refuse to hire me even though they know I'm bloody qualified for the job!" She mimicked their condescending tones in a high-pitched voice, "Too dangerous for you dearie. We wouldn't want to break your poor nails now would we?"

He tut-tutted in sympathy and reached over to pat her on her shoulder.

"It's ridiculous, is what it is!" she continued to shout, "Women can be aurors and curse-breakers and all that but they can't be dragon tamers? What kind of a double standard it that!"

She settled into the sofa with a loud 'humph!', swatting Ron's legs off it in the process.

"Hey! Don't need to take it out on me! And anyway, maybe they do have a point, you know, 'Mione."

She whipped her head around so fast her hair went flying into his mouth and she fixed him with what he liked to call her 'death-glare'.

"And what exactly do you mean by that _Ronald_." She replied in icy tones that spoke of daggers and other sharp pointy things.

He gulped nervously, but like the true Gryffindor he was, had no survival instincts in the face of danger and thus ploughed on, "Well, it's obvious isn't it? I mean, this job involved dragons Hermione! They're really dangerous! People get hurt all the time. Even Charlie gets hurt, and, no offense meant, but you're not even very athletic in the first place. How are you supposed to handle all that? And why can't you get another safer job anyway?"

She closed her eyes and counted to ten, telling herself that she would regret it mightily tomorrow if she killed Ronald today.

Or maybe not…

"What if I don't want another job? What if this is what I really want to do, for now? What if I won't let some silly and frankly stupid sex discrimination get in my way?"

"Well it isn't a matter of whether you want the job, isn't it? It's also whether you're cut out for it and I say that you aren't!" he persisted obstinately.

Her mouth dropped open and she stared at him incredulously. He actually thought that she couldn't do it? Bloody hell, she was Hermione Granger! She could do anything! Well, except flying of course.

"One!" she said loudly, noticing Harry wince at the volume of her voice, "Besides the ministry-organized dragon-handling courses that I have been taking from Hagrid, I have been working out ever since I decided to try for this job. You might not have noticed Ronald - not that you ever have – but I have definitely gained some muscle in all the right places. And in case you were too incapacitated on the couch to realize, I _have_ been jogging at least two to three kilometers every day! My stamina has also been built up!"

Two!" she continued, ranting, "It's not only about the physical – it's also about brains! And I have a new method of subduing the dragons that is infinitely better than the current stunning charms they use now! We'd be saving the lives of so many more dragons if those dragon tamers would just listen to me!"

She could hear Ron snort derisively, "Saving the lives of dragons!" but she ignored him and ploughed on.

"And finally, three! I'm not sure about what the future may bring, but right now, this is what I want to do. I would like to save all these endangered animals, one at a time!"

"Hermione," muttered Harry somewhat nervously as he glanced quickly between the two of them, "maybe we should all calm…"

"And you just had to start with dragons, is that it?" barked Ron, voice rising as went more and more red in the face, also partly stinging from her insult about his insensitivity and slothfulness, "What's next, Giants? Think you're so smart huh? Think you can do anything? Well this is something you cannot do! I should have said this earlier so we wouldn't be in this mess in the first place, but here it is: I won't allow it! You find yourself another, more suitable job!"

"Ronald Weasley!" she shrieked, "Just because we used to go out does not mean you get to dictate the decisions I make! This is my decision, and nothing you say will change it!"

The two of them stood facing each other, chests heaving and faces red from the exertion of all the screaming. She suddenly remembered once again, why it would have never worked out between the two of them. In the middle of them Harry sat absolutely still, cowering slightly and afraid to say anything that would start them off screaming once again. A feeling of deja vu swept past him, and he realized that he was right in the middle of yet another Hermione-Ron blow up. And he thought they were all past this when they broke up last year!

"Why must you persist in all this 'Mione!" moaned Ron finally, giving in, twisting his fingers in his messy hair and collapsing on the sofa, "You don't always have to win you know! And anyway, you know no dragon-taming company will ever hire you for that position! They'll only ever hire men. So why not just give it up?"

A thought suddenly occurred to her, a thought that darted through her like quicksilver. Something so obvious she wondered why she never thought of it before.

Her eyes gleamed, "Then I'll just have to be a man, now won't I?"

00000

Hermione stared at her almost-naked body in front of the full-length mirror, wrinkling her nose at the slight pouch of fat on her tummy that she'd never been able to get rid of no matter how many sit-ups she did. Steeling herself for a moment, she then waved her wand, intoning the magical words that would shear off the long curly locks that she had kept ever since she was a child.

"Tondeo, Totonsi, Tonsum!"

She stared at herself again, and then laughed gleefully.

Oh! Her hair! It was finally manageable! She felt a glorious soaring feeling of freedom at the lightness of her head. She moved closer to the mirror, patting her newly shorn locks down and looking at herself sideways this way and that to better examine her new cut. Why she never did this before, she did not know.

Now for the colour of her hair. She'd always wanted it to be a bit more ash, a bit less orangey. Hesitating for a moment, she then decided to straighten it as well.

Uttering the spells, she grinned in satisfaction at the soft, straight dark ash-brown hair that resulted. This was much better than she'd thought it would be! She actually looked quite cute for once, a bit tomboyish maybe, but cute, and very mod. Maybe she'd actually keep with this hairstyle after all this was over.

Now for the hard part.

Picking up her hardly-touched copy of "Glamour Charms and You! 101 ways to change your look!" from her bed, she squinted at the hand movements and intonation of the spells she would have to perform in order to change the way her body seemed to others. The book was an old graduation gift from Lavender (the skank!) and Pavarti, and never in her life had she thought that she might one day find a use for it. But here she was, and she felt glad that she never threw it away in her annual spring-cleaning after all.

Performing the hand movements, she tapped her shoulders as she said the spell, watching in satisfaction as they seemed to grow broader before her very eyes.

And while she was quite lean, she really wanted to seem slightly more…muscled and wiry. She made the required modifications and stood back once again to examine the results.

The breasts were next to go (not that hers were very noticeable in the first place), followed by the curve in her waist and hips. She'd be wearing pants most of the time anyway, so she didn't think she had to alter the size and shape of her legs, or, Merlin forbid, anything else _down there_. Luckily too she was also quite tall for a girl, standing at an above-average 5'7, and so did not need to change her height to suit her new sex.

Next, she added a bit more chin to her jaw line, and then enlarged her nose just a tiny bit.

Of course, all these changes were only superficial, not really changing her morphologically at all. The trick to these charms was that they only made you seem like how you wanted. If someone had touched, say, her breasts for instance, they would still be able to feel the soft mounds, even though they didn't seem to be there. That was the difference between Glamour charms and the polyjuice potion. It was more easily found out, and thus usually used for cosmetic purposes only. For that reason alone, she'd probably bind her breasts down if need be, but for now, this was acceptable.

Something still didn't seem right though. She still looked too much like a butch-version of herself.

The eyes, she decided quickly. They were too…brown. Too Hermione Granger.

She tapped the side of her forehead three times, muttering, "Metamorphico!" All at once the color of her eyes changed from a muddy brown to a brilliant, deep blue.

Hermione Granger was gone, but Hugh Grant was here to stay.

00000

Harry spluttered, spraying milk all over his shirt as he laughed, "Hugh…Hugh Grant? That's your new male name?" he guffawed loudly, holding in his stomach as Hermione scowled at him.

"Well he is a really handsome actor, after all. I've always liked him in Four Weddings and About a Boy. And besides, it's a nice name, one that happens to have the same initials as mine. That way I won't mess up and accidentally not respond when someone calls my name."

Ron looked confusedly between the two of them. "Hugh Grant? Who's that? Some kind of pouf?" He had finally come around after a bout of pleading from her and the use of the ex-girlfriend card. After she told them her plan, they'd agreed to help her in her transformation to manhood.

Harry hiccupped, laughter subsiding as he grinned at Ron, "Famous muggle actor. But never mind about that, I think it's a suitable name, Hermione…um, I mean Hugh."

"So, how do I look?" She turned around for their inspection, thinking that she'd done a pretty good job of it, actually.

The two men stared critically at her, before expounding on her weaknesses as a man in rapid-fire comments, "Your eyelashes – they're too long."

"And your figure – too slender. A dragon tamer has to be more muscular than that!"

"Too pale. You look like Malfoy."

"Your voice is still too high-pitched."

"Plus the way you walk – you sway your hips!"

"And, no offence, but you looked kind of like a ninny when you twirled around like that, Hermione."

She felt her face getting redder as a blush crept up from her neck. "Well instead of sitting around and insulting me, why don't you boys help me become more of a man, then!"

And so the real transformation began.

00000

A tanning charm, voice-modulating charm, and several lessons in swaggering, farting, and nose-digging later, Hermione felt she was reasonably ready to face the world and the dragon taming companies head on.

She had earlier refused to spell her arm muscles to seem larger, reasoning that she would be easily found out if they looked too huge, as one touch would let someone know that her arms weren't actually as thick as they seemed. She had also drawn the line at the eyelash shearing charm that Ron had offered to perform on her, worried that his clumsy spell casting might take her eyebrows off in the process. Plus, she rather liked her lashes, and thought that they gave her male features a slightly delicate and elfish flair.

She was now wearing one of Harry's white dress shirts, and had transfigured her boots to seem more like what a man would wear. Plain khaki-green cargo pants hung loosely on her hips, and she shoved her right hand into her pocket, posing awkwardly in front of her two roommates.

Harry whistled. "Wow 'Moine, you actually look pretty good as a man. Boyish and yet…kind of beautiful. Like one of those male models."

"Like a gay man you mean?" asked Ron bluntly as Hermione pondered the meaning of Harry's "you actually looked pretty good as a man". Did that mean that he didn't think she looked good as a woman?

Deciding to put these useless thoughts out of her mind, she walked towards the mirror in the dining room to look at herself.

"Wait – " said Ron, grabbing hold of her wrist, and before she could even react, he had taken a rolled-up sock from the clothes hamper and quickly stuffed it into her pants, ignoring her yelp of protest.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley! Where in Merlin's name did you get that sock from!" she shouted, her voice sounding low and husky to her, scrabbling in her pants to get the sock out. "And who said you could touch that part of my anatomy!"

"Relax Hermione," he said, grinning as he prevented her from removing it, "It's clean, don't worry. Newly washed. And besides," he shrugged, "nothing I haven't seen before."

She felt another one of her screaming fits coming on before Harry made a timely interruption, "No, wait Hermione. Leave it in there. It actually looks…" he crouched down and moved his face closer to her crotch, examining the slight bulge in her pants, making her cheeks burn even more with embarrassment.

"I mean it looks kinda real. I think it completes the look!"

"Really?" She asked, trying to look at it from her vantage point and patting it with her hand.

"See? What'd I tell you? I'm a genius I am," boasted Ron arrogantly as he flopped himself down on the sofa and stretched his arms. "Just what you needed to look like a real man."

She smiled to herself wryly. It was quite amazing really, what a well-placed sock could do.

00000

Picking up her files and documents, she smiled warmly at the crotchety old man who, only one week earlier had rejected Hermione Granger from the position of Trainee Dragon Tamer. One week later, he had hired Hugh Grant.

Running out the doors of the offices of 'McGuiness and Sons Dragon Taming Inc.", she looked around briefly before squealing and jumping up in the air in happiness.

She had got the job!

She couldn't believe that she'd managed to pull it all off. A lot of credit, of course, went to Arthur Weasley, and, of all people, Head Auror Moody! The former, now assistant to the Minister of Magic had agreed to conspire with her in her quest to be a dragon tamer, helping her to forge documents that confirmed her identity as one Hugh Grant, aged twenty-three, born in Lancashire and schooled at Beauxbatons School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He'd also helped her convert the certificates she'd obtained from the Ministry Dragon-Taming School to show the name of Hugh on all of them, and, after giving a warning not to do anything to get herself killed, had given her a warm hug and wished her all the best.

He'd also pleaded with her not to tell Molly what he'd done, or he'd never hear the end of it. Ex-girlfriend of Ron or not, Mrs. Weasley still had a soft spot in her heart for her and Harry.

The Head Auror had been immensely helpful as well, and after hearing of her plight from Harry, who worked under his department, had shown her a charm that would allow her to cast just one spell to effect all the visual changes she had placed on her body (this was because the charms only lasted twenty hours, and had to be constantly cast). He also personally cast another spell on her, one that deflected any recognition of her previous identity unless she told them who she was herself.

When she asked why he was helping her, he gave a loud "Hmmph!"

"Like the person who helped defeat Voldemort can't defeat a few measly dragons! I won't stand for it! It's an insult to you, it's an insult to me, and to all who fought against the evil bugger!"

She tried not to giggle as he muttered about "Stupid arrogant dragon tamers, thinking they're better than aurors!"

"Hermione!" He barked, causing her to jump out of her seat. His single eye twinkled deviously, the fake one seemingly rotating faster and faster in his eye socket, "Give 'em hell for me."

And so she was now on her way to meet the man who had contracted the team of seven dragon tamers she would now be a part of. According to old McGuiness, the man was rich, pureblooded, and very, very nitpicky, insisting on meeting and approving of every man on the team he was hiring. The job they were on was simple really; they were to move a colony of twenty dragons from the plot of land that the person hiring them wanted to mine, to another more distant yet suitable site on the mountains, putting up a barrier between the land and the area where the dragons were.

This was exactly what she'd come here for. To ensure the safe relocation of such dangerous magical species, that, despite their lethality, were essential to the biodiversity of their world.

And really, she mused, thinking of Hagrid, dragons really were quite beautiful.

And because she was on cloud nine, she failed to notice the big "D. MALFOY UK PTE. LTD." sign outside the building she was entering. Because she was so, exceedingly happy, she did not see the picture of the smug, smirking blonde haired man placed at the reception area as she breezed past all the other workstations. Because of her joy and anticipation, she didn't realize who it was she was actually going to work for, till she entered the office of the man himself, jaw almost dropping to the floor when she finally met her new boss.

00000

**A/N: The idea of the 'well-placed sock' was obtained from Terry Pratchett's "Monstrous Regiment", a really good book that all of you should go check out. **

**So, how was it? Like it? Hate it? Please review! Thanks!**


	2. Speak of the Devil

**Disclaimer: The storylines and characters of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling. No money is being made off this endeavor. **

**A/N: I'm so glad that you guys liked it! Thanks for all the great reviews. By the way, I kind of have an outline already for this story, and will hopefully be able to make regular updates. **

**Chapter 2: Speak of the Devil **

A moment passed as she stared at him, mouth open wide and wondering what in the name of Merlin she had done to deserve all this.

Didn't she help rid the world of an evil madman?

Didn't she try to free those pitiful House Elves from slavery (whether or not they wanted her to)?

Why oh why couldn't she get a bloody break!

From where she stood she could see that he hadn't changed all that much. Oh, he'd grown his hair out till it was now just above his shoulders, swept back past his forehead in a free-flowing, gel free style. His chin looked slightly less pointy, more filled out and manly, and there were lines around his eyes and mouth that weren't there before.

But other than that, it was the same ferrety Draco Malfoy.

"Well!" he barked, looking up from his writing "What are you standing there for? Close the door and come in!"

She jerked to life once more, walking stiffly towards the person she hated the most, trying to keep the involuntary scowl that was forming off her face. The result was that Draco glimpsed a slender young man with frankly quite delicate features and startlingly big blue eyes walk towards him, a constipated expression on his face. He frowned at him.

"Do you have a mental problem or something or are you always this slow? And what's with that look on your face?"

The man's deep blue eyes briefly flashed with anger and to his surprise, Draco felt a jolt of…something rush through him. It was as if his subconscious was remembering an event from the past that had no basis on this situation whatsoever. He saw a different set of green-flecked brown eyes and heard a high-pitched scream, feeling his cheek tingle not unpleasantly.

"No Mal-" the man started the say, and Draco frowned even deeper as he watched him struggle to school his face into one of amiable deference, "I mean," the man (_no, boy really_) corrected, "No Mr. Malfoy. I am not stupid or mentally deficient in any way. I was just surprised at seeing you as I did not anticipate that the famous Draco Malfoy to be the one I would have to work for."

That mollified him somewhat. _I'm famous, eh? Maybe more than the odious Golden Trio? _Though try as he might he could not figure out why, for some reason that sounded a little too…sugarcoated for his tastes. Like what he said was wrong in some fundamental way.

_What's wrong with me?_ He thought. _It's not as if I don't have a whole band of people trying to suck up to me on a daily basis._ _There's something about this man…something I **don't like**. _

Sneering at him, he looked down at the employment papers that had been flooed over earlier today.

"So you're…Hugh Grant? What kind of a name is that?" He ignored her flinch and continued, "Aged twenty-three (_blimey that was the same age as him!)_, graduated from Beauxbatons, and applying for the position of…" more papers shuffled around and Hermione could feel her armpits start to sweat.

_Oh god please don't let me be found out please don't let me be found out, especially not by this inbred ferrety waste of space!_

He snorted as he finally found the papers he was looking for, "Trainee Dragon Tamer. It figures."

She was immediately incensed but managed to control her anger only briefly to bite out a forced, "I assure you Mr. Malfoy, that while I may be inexperienced I have been more adequately well-trained at the Ministry's Center for Advanced Learning of Dragon Handling. I have all the qualifications and have also interacted with real Dragons in Romania under the tutelages of…" she gulped as she suddenly remembered something very vital, "Mr. Charlie Weasley and Mr. Hagrid..."

"The one from the family of church mice and that joke of a half-giant?" he interrupted, raising his eyebrows. "Obviously your training has _not_ been adequate."

She quailed. Oh Merlin. She'd worked so hard! How could the fates let this happen, let all her dreams get shot down, by, of all people, Draco Malfoy! Oh this was just so unfair!

He seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment, pinching his nose bridge and closing his eyes as if trying to figure out the logistics of something, trying to come to a decision of some sort. And in that moment he seemed…sort of young and vulnerable. She immediately mentally slapped herself for thinking of Malfoy as _vulnerable_.

Finally, he opened his eyes and set them upon her piercingly. "Nevertheless, I am unfortunately short of one man." He let out a cynical bark of laughter, "All the other Dragon Taming companies have said that their men are otherwise hired. You could say that my reputation has…preceded me to a great extent?" That last part was muttered almost brutally under his breath, so softly that she almost did not hear it, but hear it she did.

"Therefore, I shall be forced to take you and your probable incompetence on into my team, and I should hope you will obtain the _proper _training from the other Dragon Tamers during this trip before you make a mess out of my entire project!"

Her heart leapt into her throat and she was once again speechless for a moment. Did she hear him right? He was going to take her on!

He looked up at her with an expression of mistrust, as if he expected her to jump out of her seat and attack him at any moment, which was, actually, a correct instinct of his as she was trying her best not to curse him then and there, despite his agreement to hire her services.

Her wand hand twitched from having to play nice to Malfoy for more than five minutes.

"You will meet here with all the rest of the team at eight a.m. sharp on Monday morning where you will portkey to Bulgaria. The pay has been stated in your contract, it is non-negotiable and you shall be given quarters to live in during the duration of the project. On weekends you will be given a portkey to come back to England, should you wish to do so. The duration of this project is two and a half months, and you fools had better keep to the time limit or I'll withhold the rest of your pay!"

She nodded fervently, writing all the information down on a piece of parchment with her usual veracity of note taking.

Once she was finished, she looked back up at him expectantly, but he merely scowled at her and said in a clipped tone, "Well, what are you waiting for? Get out of my sight."

"Yes Mr. Malfoy," she said, clumsily getting up from her seat and almost tripping over the rug, "Thank you Mr. Malfoy." She rushed out of the office without a second glance and slammed the door close, and as a result, did not see the highly intrigued expression on Draco's face.

00000

"Blimey Hermione!" cried Ron, slopping the overflowing mug of ale over the cracked wooden table, "I can't believe you actually have to work for that stupid git! How is it that he's out about town and making loads of money _as usual_ and not in Azkaban in the first place?"

"Well Ron," she said, smiling wryly, "You're going to have to thank Harry here for that one. If not for his testimony, he very well might have been."

Harry mumbled something into his bottle of butterbeer about "stupid git Malfoys" and looked up at her earnestly, "Hermione, you do know that if I have ever, ever known this would have happened, that I would not have testified at his trial? That I would've spared you from this and sacrificed my morals instead? You do believe me, right? Because I would have!"

She laughed at him, the high-pitched sound of it traveling throughout the packed Leaky Cauldron. She was currently in her female form and was much more relaxed now that she didn't have a million people to deceive. "Well, Harry, thanks for the somewhat belated offer but I would never ask you to do that. Although the thought is appreciated!"

The three of them were currently in a jubilant mood, and had come out here for a night about town to celebrate Hermione's finally getting the job of her dreams.

Of course, a night about town meant a night spent drinking and generally eating whatever rubbish the Cauldron had to offer on a Friday night. Today's special was "Ye Olde English Fish and Chips", and little bits of fish and fried batter flew about from Ron's mouth as he gesticulated wildly, causing Hermione and Harry to scoot back slightly, "Yeah but seriously! Malfoy! You're seriously going to take his offer up? I mean, dragons, plus_ Malfoy_! If that isn't a killer combination I don't know what is!"

"Oh hush Ron. Sure, I hate the ferret, and guess what? He's as horrible as ever, but…" and suddenly she grinned radiantly, so much so that Ron felt a brief pang of regret ring about in his chest, "But I'm going to be doing something I've wanted to for so long! I mean, after all the career changes and all that time spent in Gringotts and after the War…I mean, I feel as if my life is starting to pick up again, you know? Plus Malfoy probably won't want to get his hands dirty in the Bulgarian highlands, so I don't think I'll have to see him very much anyway."

"Well," Ron said, grinning giddily at her, "In that case I'm happy for you 'Mione."

"What did your parents say then?" asked Harry, leaning over the table, his hands curled around his drink on the tabletop.

"Oh..." and she blushed "um…I haven't actually told them anything yet…err…they think I'm still working at Gringotts…" she trailed off embarrassedly, and jumped in shock at the sudden gust of warm air beside her ear, and the presence of a very familiar man whose hair tickled her bare neck, leaning over her asking softly, "And who's still working at Gringotts?"

The furious gazes Harry and Ron were giving in her direction and the smell of that expensive cologne told her all she needed to know.

Malfoy. Just her luck.

00000

He straightened his expensive wool robes and smirked at them coolly.

He'd come straight for them like a shark going towards fresh blood the moment he'd opened the door to this foul establishment and had seen their happy faces. The Golden Trio in all their glory, Potter, Weasel, and their nanny, Granger. He'd had a bit of trouble spotting Granger at first, as her bushy hair was now cut in a short but chic style, golden brown ringlets held in place by clips.

He knew he shouldn't have gone to bother them. Knew that without their help, he would have never been out here, free in the world in the first place. But seeing them so happy…seeing _her _smiling like that like she had all the right in the world to, rosy cheeks and all…and it just wasn't fair! It wasn't fair that a church mouse, an orphan, and a mudblood could be so happy, when all he felt all the time was a deep sinking misery.

And like the jealous bastard that he was, that he always had been, he'd stridden over to torment them in his own special way, come to make them as unhappy as he was.

"So," he drawled, "If it isn't the Potty, the Weasel and…" he glanced over to her and for the second time that day felt a weird jolt at the bottom of his belly. _Where had he seen that…_He shook himself and continued, "And Granger. How lovely! A school reunion."

He could see a vein bulging in the Weasel's forehead and cackled inwardly at this show of his power over that useless swine that lasted even till today.

"Well," he continued, as he smoothly moved to sit next to Granger, pulling out the chair next to her and leaning back indolently, feet thumping loudly on the table and hands at the back of his neck, "How have you chaps been? No need to be so formal here, we're all old friends after all."

"Save it Malfoy." spat Ron. "What do you want? What are you doing here? You're after Harry again, aren't you! Admit it!" His face was practically boiling with pent-up rage and he stared daggers into Malfoy's clear forehead.

Hermione sat still, silent. She was fuming on the inside of course but the path to dealing with Malfoy was to always ignore him. He craved attention, and to give it to him would be to let him win.

Harry kept quiet as well, but there was something else there that kept him still, and it was not restraint. Rather, it was as if…as if they shared something, him and Malfoy. And it seemed to Hermione that Harry was observing Malfoy intently, looking for something with his auror-like intensity, and it made her shiver. He'd never told her what had transpired between the two of them during Malfoy's trial. What made Harry decide to testify for him, and what made Malfoy decide to become a turncoat against the Death Eaters.

"Why of course not! Why ever would I be after Harry? I'm no longer a Death Eater, if you must know. Haven't been for a long while." He chuckled easily, but Hermione could tell from the superficiality of it, as well as his brittle mood earlier this morning that he was not entirely at ease with his reputation as he seemed to be now.

"Speaking of Harry," and he turned to his other side and smiled genially, "So, I hear that you're an auror now? How fantastic! Wasn't that something you've always wanted to do?"

_What the hell was he after?_ The whole thing was putting Hermione off immensely. Technically he'd been perfectly polite thus far, but she knew that there was something up.

"Yes, it was Malfoy." Harry replied, seemingly unperturbed, "And if you remember, I was already an apprentice when you were being held in Azkaban during your trial."

Ron gave a loud snort of laughter and Hermione cheered inwardly. _Score one for Harry!_

But Malfoy just smiled widely at them, showing his teeth.

_Like a…like some kind of a carnivore, or a shark! _Hermione thought as she steeled herself for what she knew was coming.

Swiftly, as if he had been planning this all along, he turned to Ron and asked in a casual manner, "And you, Ron? Are you an auror as well? A little bird told me you'd applied recently. I remember you being quite enthusiastic for this profession in Hogwarts too."

She could see Ron stiffen in his seat and she reached out a hand to hold his but he jerked it away.

The bastard. She thought. The evil, evil bastard. He knew the outcome of that application. And he knew the reason why it had failed to go through. He only wanted to torment Ron.

"Yes well," she interrupted, "Ron has decided that he has other interests."

"Like what?" Draco asked, eyes shining with glee, "Interests such as…oh, I don't know, being a store clerk for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes? Why, I never knew being a store man could be quite so interesting!"

Before she could even blink Harry had had his wand out and was pointing it at Malfoy's throat. "Get out of our faces ferret." he growled menacingly.

Malfoy looked surprised at the threat at his throat but if he was frightened he didn't show it.

"Well," he said as he stood and adjusted his collar. "It seems that I have out stayed my welcome. I'll be on my way then." But he stood up and walked away, he turned around and smiled evilly. "As a family member of the one that made you a squib I feel that it is my duty to apologize to you, Weasley. I do hope you get better soon. Squibs don't get employed to the auror services you know. Not," he laughed gaily, 'that they get employed to much else."

"I'M NOT A SQUIB!" burst out Ron as he jumped out of his seat and lunged for Malfoy. Chairs and tables toppled over and mugs of beer smashed to the ground as the other patrons of the Leaky Cauldron gasped in shock. Malfoy sprightly moved one step back, causing Ron to miss, his momentum making him fall heavily face-first on the ground.

"Ron!" shouted Hermione as she scrambled over to see if he was all right. She lifted her furious yet tear-filled eyes at Draco and for a moment, but only a very short moment, Draco actually felt regret at what he had done. The moment passed however and a sneer once again adorned his aristocratic features.

"Get lost Malfoy!" she snarled, "No one wants you here. So get out of our lives and go back to that hole where you came from!"

And to her surprise, he actually looked stung by what she said. He blinked, and then turned around in a whirl of robes and walked out of the pub.

Sighing tiredly, she helped a shamefaced Ron to his feet and then cast several spells to clean everything up. "Show's over people, go back to your business."

Ron plunked back down onto his seat and placed his head in his hands, breathing heavily. Harry quickly ordered another butterbeer for him and the three of them sat awkwardly around the table.

Hermione and Harry looked uncomfortably at each other. This was a topic they never discussed, at least, not in front of Ron. "Ron…mate," Harry began, trying to sound comforting, "you know you're not a squib. You can still do lots of spells, and I'm sure that when you get better, you'll recover your full strength."

"Yeah," snorted Ron. "I can do spells for housework. Spells to wash dishes, spells to cut the carrots, and spells to summon the newspaper, and not much else. It's been more than three years since I was cursed by Lucius, so just leave it alone, Harry. I doubt I'll get better than I already am. So just leave me alone and let me drink in peace."

Hermione was hoping that they'd get over this by the end of the night and continued to converse gaily, telling jokes to try to make Ron laugh. But the mood had been ruined and after Ron had ingested three or so bottles of firewhiskey, she tiredly draped one of his arms around her shoulder and motioned for Harry to take the other. As one, the three trudged exhaustedly home.

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Monday morning saw Hermione waking bright and early, eager to begin her new phase in life. Her clothes (well, actually, Harry's clothes) were all packed in her suitcase, and as she shrunk the entire lot down to the size of a knapsack, she heard Ron and Harry come into her room.

"Hermione!" Harry chuckled, "You know, no one will believe you are a man from the way you pack! How much exactly was in there before you shrunk it?"

She wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue at him, an image that was quite incongruous to the image of manliness she was trying to portray.

Ron broke out in infectious giggles, and seeing him as such, she could not control herself, and gave in to the laughter as she pulled them towards her in a three-way hug.

"Oh Harry, Ron! I'm going to miss the two of you so much!"

"Oh come off it 'Mione!" Ron smiled, ruffling her now dark brown hair. He'd gotten over the incident at the pub by now, something that was no doubt helped along by a girl he'd successfully picked up – at the grocery store of all places!

"We'll be seeing you in a week you know," reminded Harry.

"I know," she replied contritely, "It's just that I'm so used to the two of you being around. Really, I don't know what I'd do without you two."

"Well you'll just have to find out now, won't you?" said Harry gently, "And besides, I don't think it's a case of you needing us, but more of a case of us needing you!"

She walked to the doorway of the old house, feeling slightly scratchy from the woolen sock that was stuck between her legs. She wondered if her waddling gait while walking with the sock really looked like how a man walked, as Harry and Ron had said, or if they were actually pulling her leg.

"Well, I'm off guys. Be good while I'm gone ok?"

"Yes mum," replied Ron glibly. She smiled fondly at him, and then apparated to the offices of one Draco Malfoy with a loud crack.

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Popping into the reception area, she smiled at Draco's secretary before moving to open the door to his office. She was feeling extremely nervous for some reason, and hoped fervently that the dragon tamers she would have to work with would all be as nice as Charlie Weasley. That would make things so much easier for her.

She took a deep breath, and then walked in.

And was immediately assaulted by the image of a fat man with his hands at his hips and his beer belly sticking out, shouting, "Well lookee here, we've got ourselves a fresh one lads!"

Well. He certainly was _not_ like Charlie at all.

In fact, most of the crew in this motley group were not really like what she had envisioned when she pictured dragon tamers.

She took in the sight of the five other man arrayed at various positions in the office as she walked forward to introduce herself. Besides beer belly, an old codger with hardly any of his own hair left sat hunched over by the coffee table, looking sullenly at her as she walked by. Another, a mild-mannered looking bloke wearing wire-rim glasses stood by the large window overlooking central London. She was quite relieved to note however that two of the other men did look friendly enough, in much the same vein as Charlie had; one, tall with short blonde hair and friendly green eyes that crinkled at the sides when he smiled, and the other, with a cheeky smile and long black hair tied back in a ponytail. He reminded her of Sirius Black for some reason, what with his hair and tattoos running up along the sides of his exposed muscular arms.

She held her hand out to beer belly first, as he seemed to be the leader of this disparate group, "Hi! I'm Her…err…my name is Hugh Grant. Pleased to meet you."

The one with the tattoos gave a short bark of laughter, throwing his head back, "No kidding? Hugh Grant? Like that guy in Four Weddings and a Funeral?"

"Um…" she hesitated. "I take it that you're muggleborn?" Well, she certainly did not anticipate that!

But Beer Belly further surprised her by clapping her heavily on her back instead of shaking her hand, throwing her forward with the force of his slap. "Ungh!"

She only barely stopped herself from plowing into his protruding stomach.

"And I'm Frank McGuiness, son of old McGuiness, I trust that yer've met him?" he said in his loud booming voice. She straightened her body and flexed her shoulders, feeling as if a boulder had dropped on her back.

He sniggered at her motions, "Not a strong one, are yer lad? We'll toughen yer up yet trainee!"

She smiled weakly at him and then went to introduce herself to the other men in the room. Tattoo was, indeed, muggleborn. Named of Rhys Hackett, he'd been four years ahead of her at Hogwarts, and hailed from Ireland. His accent though was more Cockney than Irish Brogue however and when she asked him about it he replied that he'd lived in the East End of London almost his whole life. Blondie, who was actually Robben Van Buren ("call me Robbie") shook her hand firmly, whispering to "not mind all those old geezers", and that she'd have a fantastic time at Bulgaria, if she knew what he meant. She was going to say that no, she didn't know what he meant, before he drew the shape of a women's figure in the air with his fingers and winked at her. _Then _she blushed and, remembering Ron's advice, tried to smile a similarly knowing smile back at him before realizing that she made a terrible letch and that her smile was probably more anxious than perverted.

Glasses politely introduced himself as Alexander Davies, while the Old Codger had stared at her hand distrustfully before spitting out, "Bain Fogarty".

Smiling hesitatingly at them, she stared nervously at the black work boots she had transfigured from a pair of high heeled ones for a while before looking up and asking no one in particular, "So…aren't we leaving soon? Or are we waiting for one more person?"

"We're waiting for one more," replied McGuiness shortly. He did not elaborate further and she bit her lip and tapped her foot.

Suddenly, the door to Malfoy's office burst open and the devil himself stomped in. Hermione noted that his hair was in a mess and his eyes were murderous. He looked like thunder, and she thought that he had probably not gotten much sleep in the past few days.

_Serves him right,_ she sniffed, hoping vengefully that he'd have many more of these sleepless nights to come.

"Well what are all of you staring at! Get into position! We've got no time to waste!" shouted Malfoy huffily. He motioned towards an old watering can on his desk and placed on hand on the spout. The rest soon followed but Hermione was stuck to her place.

_Wait…something…something wasn't right with this picture._ Hermione could feel herself panicking but couldn't figure out why.

And then she realized.

"Um…Mal-Mr. Malfoy…you're not coming with us, are you?" she blurted out weakly.

"Yes of course I am you fool!" he sneered at her. "Now stop wasting my time and let's get a move on!"

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**A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think about it. **


	3. Saving Draco Malfoy

**Disclaimer: It all belongs to J.K. Rowling (except the characters I have invented)**

**Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait. Hope you all enjoy it! Please R&R! **

**Chapter 3: Saving Draco Malfoy**

For a moment all she could do was stare wide-eyed at him, mouth gaping in what would surely be a horrified shriek, if only she remembered how to use her vocal cords.

He was coming with them.

Visions of glorious Malfoy-free days spent in the Bulgarian wilderness, honing her craft, seeing and taming real life dragons, and spending her free time reading the multitude of books she had of course brought along with her for the trip vanished before her very eyes. These visions were now replaced by that of Malfoy scowling, sniping, and snapping at them all while they were made to scramble after his heels to do his every bidding.

"I shall count to five Grant, and if you're not here by then we'll just have to leave your undoubtedly retarded self behind, not that that wouldn't be doing us ALL a favour!"

She scrambled to the portkey.

And as the characteristically pulling feeling in her navel began, she resignedly thought to herself that it had, indeed, begun already.

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She found herself unceremoniously dumped onto the hard-packed ground, staring up at a very pale Malfoy who squinted at her from above before scoffing and striding away.

Bloody git.

Luckily, someone else noticed her predicament, and reached out to help her. "Here, let me give you a hand."

It was Blondie, a.k.a. Robbie. He smiled disarmingly at her as she accepted his help and pulled herself up, rubbing her back where the fall had probably given her a bruise.

"So," asked Robbie affably as they trudged up the hill to the village where they were supposed to stay in, "This your first time in Bulgaria?" Malfoy and McGuiness led the pack up front, while she and Robbie brought up the rear, an arrangement that she was more than pleased with.

She steadied herself for a few seconds before answering, letting the nauseous feelings from the portkey transport wash over her as she took several deep breaths. It certainly wouldn't do to throw up in front of all these men, not to mention Malfoy, on the first day on the job, "Well…no, not really." She reddened as she remembered the invitation she had finally taken up a year ago, not long after her break-up with Ron. Viktor had been…a most gracious host. Together, they had toured Sofia, the modern capital of Bulgaria, as well as visited Viktor's village. They'd scoured the countryside for natural wonders as well as whatever hidden magical treasures that were abound in the land.

It had been lovely, really. Almost too lovely. Viktor had been the perfect companion. And Bulgaria was just so beautiful, like it still is now; and the quaint little villages, flowing streams, and meadows upon meadows of wild flowers had all made her feel so…free, for some reason. So utterly freed from whatever constraints she had put on herself her whole life. But a part of Hermione had known it for what it had been – rebound. So she had regretfully said her goodbyes at the end of that wondrous summer, and the two of them had remained as friends.

Bulgaria was as beautiful as she remembered. The valley was dotted haphazardly with golden flowers, like a beard not quite shaved properly, and mountains full of green rose up in the distance. Some, the very tallest that towered into the impossibly blue sky were capped with snow and shrouded in mist.

"Ah…" said Robbie, following her long contemplative silence, "Got a girl here, haven't you?"

"What!" exclaimed Hermione, shocked, as visions of a near naked Viktor paraded around in her head. _How did he…?_ She promptly choked on her saliva and started to cough violently. Fogarty turned around to look at her derisively and Robbie thumped her on her back a few times before she managed to stop her coughing fit.

"Err…" she said, embarrassed, "Was I that obvious?"

Robbie let out a loud chuckle, and she noticed Malfoy whipping his head around to scowl at them, as if he hated the idea of anyone being happy, "Well, it's just that you had this look on your face. And you were blushing. She a pretty bird then, eh? Good in the – ahem" He winked at her.

The whole incongruity of the situation struck her, and then she too let out a loud guffaw. "Ah," she said, wiggling her eyebrows at him suggestively, "that would be telling, now would it?"

"Aren't you the stud!" he punched her on the shoulder companionably, and Hermione felt as if she had made a friend.

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After the long walk that made Hermione's knees feel as if they were about to give out, they finally arrived at their new homes for the next two months and half. Three whitewashed cottages sat side by side, each, with a neatly pruned garden and a simple cobblestone walkway that led to the front door.

Malfoy walked up to the first one and banged his way through the door, slamming it loudly behind him and cursing as it rebounded on him and hit him in the shins, leaving the rest of them on their own to sort things out.

Hermione tried to stifle a grin, but failed of course.

Robbie shrugged at her and said, "Well I suppose we'll just split ourselves up into two groups, now won't we?"

After a brief discussion, it was finally decided that she, Robbie and Rhys would live in the cottage in the middle, while Alexander, Fogarty, and McGuiness would live in the third cottage on the other side of them.

Picking up her knapsack that had seemed to get heavier and heavier as they hiked to the village, she opened the creaking door slowly and peered in.

To her surprise, the cottage seemed ordinarily muggle. Unlike the magical tents that Mr. Weasley had during the Quidditch World Cup, this cottage seemed to be of proportionate size with how it looked from the outside, and was full of the ordinary furniture and embellishments that one might expect from a muggle abode.

Rhys sauntered in past her and dumped his things on the tiled floor, dropping himself onto a comfy-looking sofa in the small living room.

"Finally! What a bloody long walk! Couldn't we just have portkeyed nearer instead of having to walk all that way?"

"Well Hackett, for a muggleborn, you certainly are daft about these things! Didn't you notice the village we passed through? It's muggle! We can't very well go popping out of nowhere in a place like this." replied Robbie, as he too walked in and dumped his bags on the floor.

"We're in a muggle village?" she asked, startled.

"No choice about that, mate, unfortunately for Malfoy. This is the closest village for miles to his land. It was here or out in the woods, though I did hear that he kicked up a right fuss about it."

She snorted. Figures.

"Well," she said, "I'm off to inspect the bedrooms."

"Oy! No fair! We should all inspect them together! I want the one with the biggest bed!"

She had no doubt at all as to why Robbie wanted the one with 'the biggest bed'.

"Oh, get your mind off of women for one second will you Van Buren?"

"No chance of that happening!" shouted Rhys from the sofa, and she rolled her eyes as she walked up the wooden stairs.

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After a quick lunch of baked beans and toasted bread that Hermione had whipped up in the cramped kitchen, the three then walked to the other Dragon tamer cottage to commence to discuss what McGuiness had called their 'Plan of Attack', capital letters inherent in his tone of voice.

"So…" started the fat man as they settled into the old yet comfortable couches and chairs, "This here's yer first time with the dragons eh Grant?"

"Yes it is sir," she replied, and went on perhaps a little too eagerly, "And I hope to learn so much from all of you and this experience and –"

"Good then. Yer can shut up and listen to up, 'cause here's the Plan of Attack: Whenever possible, stun the little buggers between their eyes. Best way to take 'em out. Their hides are too tough, but sometimes when we're all stunning 'em at the same time it can work. However, let's not take the risk of the bugger trampling us all to pieces, so stun 'em, and stun 'em good, and always between the eyes."

Hermione sat there, shocked as she listened to his bloody stupid 'Plan of Attack'. That was it? That was all? What about all she had learnt about dragon behavior and magics? What about more sophisticated ways of taming them?

She looked around at the other tamers, but all of them, even Robbie and Rhys seemed to be used to this mode of strategy, and did not seem concerned at all. McGuiness then continued to discuss attack patterns and fail-safe measures, all archaic forms of dragon taming that even the Romanians, as Charlie had informed her, no longer used!

"But…" she started.

"Yes Freshie?" asked McGuiness, his tone sharp, as she had interrupted him in his lecture.

"But I…but I thought that we'd be using some of the new techniques that the ministry has outlined for us…and…I myself have come up with several that I'd be glad to – "

But he merely sneered at her and said, "Yer ever try any of yer new 'techniques' out on real live dragons lad?"

His derisive tone did not escape her. Biting her lip, she had no choice but to utter a whispered 'no'.

Fogarty cackled, and it seemed to Hermione that she was about to get a dragon tamer-style orientation.

She was not disappointed. Laboriously, McGuiness got up off his fat arse to lumber towards her, till he was looming right over her as she fidgeted in her seat. He placed a thick ham-like hand on her shoulder and squeezed. She tried not to flinch.

"Now you listen 'ere, and yer listen good," he whispered menacingly, "I don't know what they've been feeding yer up at yer shiny ministry, but this is the way we do things around 'ere. This is the way we've always done things around 'ere, and we're not going to change our ways for something else not tried and tested that mighta just get all of us killed!"

She glanced around at Rhys and Robbie, but they seemed to be looking away uncomfortably, with not one jot of intention to intercede on her behalf. Burning furiously, she snapped her head back to McGuiness and stared at him defiantly. He snorted and let go of her shoulder to walk back to his seat, "We're all in this together lad, my back's your back. Our lives are in each other's hands, and if you think I'm going to let my life be in the hands of some greenhorn who doesn't want to listen to instructions, then yer've got another thing coming!" his voice had gotten louder and louder towards the end till that last part was almost barked. "If that's what yer going to do, then you'd better just leave now."

Oh, this was just so infuriating! She could feel her cheeks flame and her eyes blink away tears that had somehow sprung to her eyes, but still she stayed in her seat stonily, till McGuiness finally finished with his diatribe, and continued talking about his bloody stupid 'Plan of Attack'. She was the first one out of the cottage when the meeting ended, and all but stormed up to her little room at the corner of the second floor, ignoring the concerned calls of Rhys and Robbie.

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Next morning saw the dragon tamers plus one Draco Malfoy up and early and hiking to the mountain range where the dragons resided on Malfoy's land.

To be honest, thought Hermione to herself as she huffed and puffed and struggled to keep up with the rest while almost hunched over from the heavy pack on her shoulders, she really hadn't expected Malfoy to want to join them. He certainly wasn't dressed for dragon-taming at all, and was currently wearing a silken-looking white shirt and crisp, pressed black pants under a heavy black robe, all very traditional wizards wear, and, Hermione as glad to notice, clothes that were highly unsuitable for hiking in Bulgaria in high summer. He was sweating like the pig he was.

She was miffed to note though that despite all the sweating and being red in the face from the exertion, Malfoy was still as good-looking a bugger as he ever was, and she could spy his muscular arms rippling sensuously under his silken shirt…

She snapped out of it in time. RIPPLING SENSUOUSLY? What in Merlin's name had she been thinking about? Perhaps all this sun had gotten to her head…resolving to concentrate on the hike ahead, she tore her gaze from him to stare at the ground, noting when hard-packed soil turned grassy.

Hermione had no need however of worrying that Draco would see her staring at him, as he was quite preoccupied, thank you, with problems of his own.

Problems such as why his Aunt Lettie on his father's side who had just passed away (and who had left him this land) had made it so that only Malfoy blood would ensure the barrier to the land be lifted? For Merlin's sakes, the woman was torturing him beyond the grave, she was! It was all because of her he was now sweating like a bloody plebian, and hiking up this impossible slope to where his lands were. He really hoped the wizards in his employ were right, and that there was a valuable store of metals and minerals lying under this mountain to be mined.

If they weren't, well…he still knew a lot of ways to…

No, snap out of it Draco. No longer evil, remember? He sighed gustily and continued up the slope, scowling as one of the dragon tamers, the really old leathery one with no teeth skulked pass him, turning around shortly after to give him an insolent toothless grin and jaunty wave.

Bloody dragon tamers.

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They were finally at the edge of his lands. This was the part he'd dreaded. He could already hear the high keens of the dragons and the answering calls of their mates. That old fart McGuiness had informed him that this was mating season for the dragons, a time when they would be most ferocious. He hoped he'd have time to leave the area after the ritual. And he really hoped they wouldn't be attracted by the smell of his blood…

He took out a small knife, one with an ivory handle, carved at the end with the Black crest and motto: Toujours Pur. Quickly, he made a small cut on his palm. He winced as he squeezed his hand to elicit enough drops of his blood to fall on the soil. "Ego Malefica, Ego Filius. Patefacio!" He felt a cool wind pass as the barriers dropped, and turned around to motion the tamers to go on forward…

…And then heard a loud roar, not twelve feet behind him.

_Shit. _

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Hermione had, in her curiosity at seeing the ancient blood spell not really taken much note of her surroundings. She knew that was a mistake, a simple one that most novices made, but theory was much, much different from practice, she supposed.

Well then. The only consolation she had was that none of the other dragon tamers had paid much attention to their surroundings either, and were all now slowly backing away as a screaming Malfoy ordered them to do something about the evil looking red dragon slowly stalking its way forward, closer and closer to Malfoy. It grinned, showing a mouthful of diamond-looking teeth.

That idiot. She wanted to shout at him to shut up. The louder he shouted the more he'd attract the attention of the giant brute.

"Ok now lads," McGuiness said softly out of the corner of his mouth, "Time to show our stuff eh? Stun 'im between the eyes when I say so. Attack Formation Six." The dragon tamers nodded tersely and Hermione tensed to prepare herself to move into position to strike.

"NOW!" cried McGuiness loudly and she sprang into action, jumping behind a bush and shouting the stunning spell, aimed in between the dragon's eyes.

But it seemed as if the dragon had somehow read their minds, and as the red bolts shot towards him, it leapt lightly into the air, using its wings to keep it aloft, and, just like some bird of prey, snatched Malfoy up with its claws.

"HELP! HELP ME YOU BASTARDS!" She could hear Malfoy screaming in pain and fright as she stared helplessly upwards. The rest were cursing and swearing frantically, shooting the stunning spells without avail. Rhys, it seemed had brought along a broomstick, and he now sprang on it and shot up the air towards the dragon, swerving and just avoiding the gust of flame that shot out from the dragon's nostrils.

_Oh Merlin. Oh Merlin. Oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin...It had Malfoy! What to do what to do…_

She could see the panicked looks on Fogarty and McGuiness, and she knew that they did not have a Plan of Attack B. No choice then. She'd just have to find out if this worked now.

_And if it didn't…_

She'd cross that bridge later.

Reaching into her knapsack, she took out an egg-like ball made of glass. A red, swirling mixture that sometimes seemed like liquid, and then sometimes seemed like gas could be seen inside it. Testing its weight in her palm, she reached back, and threw it up into the air as hard as she could. At the same time, she whispered an enchantment to make it fly higher…

And once it was airborne at the correct height, pointed her wand at it to scream a spell to break the glass.

And as it broke, the red swirling fluid inside it immediately evaporated to become pure gas. It quickly dissipated, reacting with the air to become an orange colour. Her heart was beating like crazy and she almost wanted to whoop with joy when she saw the dragon breathe in the gas.

The effects were all that she had hoped for. It shook its head, once or twice, as if trying to clear something that had parked itself right in front of its eyes. Then its head lolled backwards, and, improbably, it began dropping like a stone from the air.

Now if only she knew how to save Malfoy from a fall ten stories high, in the clutches of an unconscious dragon that would probably crush him like a cockroach as it fell to the ground.

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	4. Saving Draco Malfoy Pt 2

**Disclaimer: Not mine, etc.**

**Chapter 4: Saving Draco Malfoy Part 2**

It was an experience, really, to fall from fifty feet in the air, in the clutches of a mad dragon which had only recently tried to feed you to her babies, and which was now completely knocked out, and very likely to crush you. Put a new perspective on things, really.

Like maybe the fact that your house elf Twinky couldn't make a lime meringue to save her life wasn't that big of a deal, eh? Maybe you shouldn't have given her clothes?

Or, like maybe the fact that Potty and His Gang of Merry Losers were still so popular in the wizarding world shouldn't bother you as much as it had, and maybe you shouldn't have said the things you said to the Weasel?

Well, at least you weren't going to be dragon food now, eh? Get to keep your good looks at the end…if, that was, if your face wasn't completely crushed.

And then mercifully, he remembered nothing more.

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…And just when she thought Malfoy was due to become dragon pancake, Rhys swept in with his Firebolt, scooping him up gently as he would a baby. The broom, along with its riders darted away as the dragon came crashing down onto the rocky landscape, flattening a few dozen trees in the process.

There was a thunderous rumble accompanied by a shudder and then all was silent. And the entire party finally let out the breaths they had been holding throughout the entire, pathetic, sodden episode.

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"Mr. Malfoy…Mr. Malfoy wake up!"

Soft hands slapped him lightly on his cheeks.

"Malfoy you little bugger get up! Oh no, what are to do, he's not opening his eyes!"

_Mmm_…thought Draco. _Soft hands. They felt so good. Let me stay like this a while longer. _

What Hermione heard instead was a soft moan that went more like this, "Mmm…soft…so good…so good…mummy can I stay in bed a while longer? Pleeaase?"

The entire party looked at each other uneasily. This was not the type of thing manly men like them could deal with.

Rhys shook his head and laughed, "Well, he sure has some Oedipal issues!"

"Malfoy…" Hermione leaned in towards his face to check if his breathing was still normal.

And just when her face was barely an inch away from his, strong, large hands shot out and grabbed the sides of her face. Startling grey eyes shot open.

For one very long second they stared at each other.

His eyes were really…pretty. Grey but, ringed with forest green, and specks of brown.

He stared at her almost quizzically, as if he hadn't just fallen through the air from the clutches of a dragon, as if he was really just waking up from a bad dream in Malfoy Mansion, safe in his sheets of soft linen. He looked so childlike that Hermione wanted to reach out and smooth his unruly locks away from his face.

However, her body realized she was being crazy even before her mind did, and so she stood up very quickly, thereby missing the beginnings of a faint glimmer of recognition in his eyes. Why was her heart beating so heavily?

The bubble that held them in that strange state burst, and then all was back to normal, and he was once again Mr. Malfoy, and she Mr. Grant the imbecile.

Malfoy turned white abruptly as he suddenly remembered what they were doing there and why he was lying in the arms of one Rhys Hackett. His lips opened once or twice and he clutched at Rhys' shoulder tightly, as if letting it go will cause him to fall again.

"Wh…What was that Grant?"

All eyes turned to her.

"Oh," she started, icy dread already starting to form in her veins, "Ah…just…ah, something I'd come up with during my time at the Ministry. It's a potent nerve gas, knocks the dragons out in a matter of seconds. Harmless to them though, they should wake up in about an hour." She was looking at McGuiness out of the corner of her eye, and from his murderous expression, she knew that he was not very happy about what she had done. The old fool was probably just jealous of her success. She really hoped that she would not get sacked from her job because of this…

"But that's brilliant Grant!" cried Robbie effusively, "We've never been able to find a chemical that could knock them out without also killing any humans within a twenty metre range! How did you – "

But he was interrupted by Malfoy, who suddenly shot out his other hand not already cutting off the circulation in Rhys' shoulders, and grabbed on to her wrist, "From now on we use this damn gas!" he shouted, a bit hysterically. She could see that he was still recovering from his almost deadly fall. Normal colour was still not returning to Mr. Mummy's Boy.

She heard a "But…" from McGuiness, however Malfoy immediately silenced him.

"No buts." He closed his eyes, let go of her wrist, and seemed to try to calm himself down. He opened them again and let the full intensity of his grey-eyed gaze fall on her once again. To her surprise, this time they seemed full of…gratitude. Sincere thanks at that.

"You've saved my life, Grant. You and Hackett both. And let it not be said that a Malfoy never repays his debts. I thank the two of you."

And in true Malfoy fashion, he then fainted dead away, leaving her and Rhys to lug him back to his cottage while the rest began the thankless task of transporting the large dragon to the reserve.

McGuiness and Fogarty shot dirty looks at her as she walked past, and she knew that all was not over between them and her.

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	5. Bar Night

**Author's Note: I realized that I haven't been updating my fics very often. Hopefully this year will be different! Thanks for all the reviews!**

**Disclaimer: No profit is being made from this endeavor. The characters and storylines of the Harry Potter books belong to J.K. Rowling. **

**Chapter 5: Bar Night**

"So Grant! How did you do it? Tis' a great potion!"

Hermione blushed to the roots of her fake ash-brown hair. To be honest, this was the type of thing she had always craved, recognition of her talents. To think she was actually getting it now from fellow dragon tamers! What a rush it was!

The warm pub rang with the laughter of its inhabitants. Cigar smoke laced its way through the air, creating a sort of hazy yet cozy atmosphere that nonetheless caused Hermione to cough and wheeze ever so often. The 'manly habit' of smoking was not something she'd managed to pick up as of yet.

Hermione, Robbie, Rhys, Alex, and, would you believe it, Malfoy the ferret himself were celebrating their success (or, in the case of Malfoy, his survival) by having a round of drinks at the local rickety pub after the adventures of the day. While he had fainted in the forest, Malfoy had soon woken up from his slumber that night and had very uncharacteristically invited the whole group of dragon tamers out for a night on the town (or village, as it were).

Robbie and Rhys had very gladly taken up his offer, dragging a highly reluctant Hermione along who hadn't wanted anything more to do with the ferret. Being called 'mummy' and having that unnerving stare turned on her not once, but twice was quite enough, thank you! But after much cajoling, pleading, and, let's be honest here, outright flattery and sweet-talking on their part she finally agreed. She was, after all, one half of the heroes of the day, wasn't she?

McGuiness and Fogarty had, of course, flat out refused to join them. Hermione could tell that they were still sore from the failure of their Plan of Attack and the success of her 'trainee' techniques.

And right now she was quite glad she had agreed to join in on the fun. While any time spent with Malfoy was usually deemed time very badly spent to her, she found, to her surprise, that she was actually enjoying herself.

The ice-cold ale, coupled with the praise had given her a very nice glow indeed.

"Well," she began, smiling from ear to ear and eager to give the full explanation, "The potion reacts with oxygen in the air, to give a chemical that interacts with certain specific receptors in the nervous system of dragons responsible for consciousness. These receptors do not exist in human beings, or, any other animal, for that matter; and so while it knocks out dragons, it has no effect whatsoever on any other organisms. After a very detailed examination of the molecular biology of dragons, I had specially created this chemical magically by looking at which types of ligands that can bind to such receptors, specifically focusing on the SH2 and tyrosine binding segments of the proteins. Ingenious, isn't it? A marriage of molecular biology and magic!"

Unfortunately she was rewarded for her explanation by blank stares from everyone else at the table. Malfoy's eyes actually seemed a bit glazed over. The only other muggleborn, Rhys, was squinting at her and seemed to get the gist of what she was saying but she highly doubted that even he managed to understand it all.

She sighed and then gave a briefer explanation, "It affects only dragons and I created it after researching more about their unique physiology."

"Oh, oh I see! I understand it now." Robbie leaned backwards in his chair and seemed to sigh in relief at having crossed that bridge. Hermione would place a wager that he'd never been very good at school.

Rhys laughed and announced, "Now that we've gotten that out of the way, cheers lads! To more successful days like this!"

"Not too much like this" intoned Malfoy, causing everyone to burst out laughing. And to Hermione's astonishment, Malfoy was laughing too.

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The rest of the night proceeded merrily, and Hermione was very much amazed to see Malfoy actually seeming to have fun that was not had at the expense of someone else. He was polite to everyone, and even cracked a joke now and then.

_I suppose he's a bit out of his mind after having survived that fall_, she mused to herself.

Suddenly, Robbie gave her a whack on the shoulder, almost causing her to spit out her ale, "Look over there!" he whispered dramatically.

"What!", she cried, expecting to see a troop of vampires walk through the door. Bulgaria after all, like Romania, was known to be one of the countries of choice for vampire clans. She was very much hoping to see one of them.

"There! That bird over there!"

"Bird? You mean Veela? Where?" She turned around to look but could see no one of interest.

Now even Alexander was laughing at her. "He means that lady over there with the very short skirt and red lips. She's clearly checking you out!"

Hermione felt her mouth drop open. A lady? Checking her out?

The lady (more like trollop actually, thought Hermione uncharitably), upon realizing that she was the object of attention of the table full of men, sauntered over casually. To Hermione's great shock, she then draped her arm over her shoulder, and dropped herself onto Hermione's lap. Her full bosom was practically pushing itself into her face.

"Vell, vat have ve 'ere? A table vull of 'andsom men!"

Hermione felt herself reddening to a shade one could approximately describe as 'tomato'.

"Er…" This…type of thing did not enter into her calculations at all! What was she supposed to do now?

The rest of the guys leered at the two of them, with Rhys and Robbie silently egging her to do something about the woman on her lap. Only Draco, oddly, seemed disinterested, and was idly staring at his nails.

"An' dees is dee most 'ansom ov all! Let's say ve take dees somevere more private hmm?"

Not knowing what to do at all, Hermione got off her seat abruptly, causing the woman (although it was becoming clearer and clearer that she was a hooker) to trip, falling into the arms of a very grateful Robbie.

"Um…well…thank you very much Miss…er…well but ah…I think I will ah…will turn in early for tonight," she said, as she slowly backed away from the table.

The woman laughed as Robbie gave her a squeeze, "Oy are you sure Grant? You gonna miss out on this?"

"I'm quite sure," Hermione replied quickly, very relieved now that there wasn't a woman grinding her bottom into her crotch.

Wanting to be as far away from the situation as possible, Hermione made quickly for the door, amidst loud guffaws from the men at the table. She could hear Rhys stage-whispering the word 'virgin' behind her. And so it was due to her embarrassment that she completely did not realize that one Draco Malfoy had also said that he was calling it a night, till he had fallen into step next to her as she made her way back to their temporary home.

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The walk back to the cottages was highly awkward, to say the least. While the night was really lovely, cool and crisp with a creek bubbling and lazily winding its way next to them, the silence between Malfoy and herself made her edgy enough to want to scream and hightail it back to the pub. Whatever had possessed Malfoy to want to leave with her!

"Well," he spoke out suddenly, breaking the silence and startling her, "It's been a tough few days, hasn't it?"

Not knowing what she was expected to say, she replied with a simple "Yes Mr. Malfoy, it has indeed." While they had shared a sort of camaraderie with the rest of the lads back in the pub, being alone with him now was an entirely different matter.

"So, how much do you want then?"

This time he'd startled her even more. Her head went up quickly to look at him, "What?"

He repeated what he said again, slowly, as if she were some kind of infant, looking at her with one eyebrow cocked, "How much do you want for saving me?"

"What? Oh no! No I couldn't I…that's not why I did it…" She was shocked. Had he been thinking about this the whole night? About 'rewarding' her for her 'services'?

"Come on now, don't be shy." He said brusquely as he removed a chequebook from a pocket in his robe, "Everyone has a price."

"No, really," she said again, feeling slightly indignant, "I did not do it for the reward or the galleons."

"Then why did you? There has to be a reason." he looked at her shrewdly. "Would you like a promotion? Is that what you want?"

"No! Why do you…?" Truly! Malfoy was just so infuriating! As if no one could do anything without demanding a price. As if there was nothing good in the world that came without strings attached.

She threw up her hands in exasperation, "I did it because someone had to do something okay? And I was the only one with the means to do it. I couldn't just let you get spirited away to be eaten alive by dragons!"

"Lots of people wouldn't have minded, I wager." He said, softly, as he looked down at his dragon-hide shoes.

She whipped her head up again, "What?"

"Well, that's the truth of it, isn't it?" He laughed weakly, nervously even. "I mean, Grant, I don't know which circles you run in but in wizarding London? I'm not a very popular man."

"Well…" she started, but left off because it was quite true actually, and Hermione did not know what to say to that.

"You don't have to say anything." He replied simply, "It's a fact. And you know what? I know a gang of three who would probably bemoan the opportunity missed. To be rid of Draco Malfoy! I'm afraid they will probably hate you for life now. For saving me that is."

"I wouldn't have…! I mean…I'm sure they wouldn't have wished that on you! You…well…you were on the good side in the War…at the end that is, if I recall…" Part of her wanted him to believe her, wanted to comfort him; the other part of her was wondering why in Merlin's name was she bothering. He was a git who deserved to wallow in his sorrows!

"Yes well…" He kicked a stone, sending it skittering off into the cool night.

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Inside Hermione was burning to say something, anything. But nothing came to mind, even as she frustratedly turned over various phrases and sayings. She wanted them to be comforting but they all came out rather trite in her mind. And all the time she wondered why she felt that need to make him feel better. She'd never cared about his feelings, hadn't even known that he had feelings to begin with.

And in a way, that was the gist of the matter. She had never really seen Malfoy as a person, never thought that he could feel regret; that he could feel guilty for his actions, or even thankful for another's help. And then there was that look in his eye as he spoke to her; that look of vulnerability.

He'd always been the slimy git, the inbred ferret. And today he suddenly became a person and she did not know what to do about it.

They finally arrived at the cottages.

"Well, this is it then." He smiled at her rakishly. "Are you sure you don't want a reward? Last chance you know."

"No Mr. Malfoy, I do not need nor want one. It was my job." She tried to give him a reassuring smile.

He bit his lip and looked at her strangely, "You're a good man, Grant. And I thank you once again. Good night."

Hermione stood stunned as he walked away. Did Malfoy just say that? Did he just admit that she was a 'good man' despite 'Huge Grant' being muggleborn?

Her brain just could not process that type of information, and so in a daze, she shut the door of the cottage behind her and walked upstairs to her bedroom, where she immediately collapsed onto her bed, falling into a dreamless sleep.

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	6. By the River

**Disclaimer: It all belongs to JK Rowling**

**Author's Note: Thanks to all those who reviewed the previous chapter, and also to those who chased me (good-naturedly of course) to update this. Muchos Gracias! **

**Chapter 6: By the River**

"Hermione. I. Can't. Believe. You. Saved. Malfoy. The. Bloody. Ferret."

Hermione sighed and shot an irritated glance at a highly disbelieving Ron, "Ronald, what did you expect me to do? Let him get eaten up by a ravenous dragon and her babies?"

"Well…you know…he would've given them indigestion, anyway. They would've spit him out! Eventually…"

She rolled her eyes and went back to reading her copy of The Daily Prophet. Nevertheless, despite the usual Ron complaints, Hermione had a smile on her face as she read the newspaper. After all, all was finally right with the world. It was the weekend, and more importantly, it was the first weekend in three weeks that she'd been back home, and boy was she glad of it.

No more pretending to be male, no more putting up with other males' bad habits and not being able to complain about them, no more sniffing her armpits, burping loudly, and pretending to scratch her sock filled crotch. No more having to deal with the old farts, Foggarty and McGuiness, and finally, no more Malfoy.

She found herself vehemently nodding in agreement with that last thought, causing Ron to remark quite loudly to Harry that she must've been spending too much time with the ferret, because, look, she's picking up his weird tendencies.

Part of her feared that was true; not the picking up on his weird tendencies part, but rather, the spending a little _too_ much time with him part.

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The days following the incident with the dragon were…quite bizarre to say the least. Malfoy was actually making the effort to be civil to everyone, and was on occasion even quite friendly to her. Perhaps it was because she had a hand in saving his life, or perhaps it was her refusing a reward for saving said life, but of all the men in the group, he also seemed to value her opinions the most, and they'd even had one or two intelligent conversations about the subtleties of dragon taming. Whatever it was, it was definitely weird being thought of as someone he felt he could talk to.

While not completely gone (as he still had the tendency to snap at the crew every now and then), the chip on his shoulder had definitely been diminished.

They'd stayed the course of this odd-civility for a few more days, before something happened which changed things. Hermione still wasn't certain how and why it changed things, but, well, it happened on a Wednesday night, the second night that Malfoy had tentatively reached out and invited them again to a night out at the village bar. Apparently they too had something like a 'Ladies' Night' out in the boondocks.

Except add on a 'of the night' to 'ladies' and that would be a more accurate description of what went down at the pub. She, of course was horrified. So too, she reckoned, was Malfoy, who seemed to have the look of one who knew he was about to be hunted. Rhys and Alex and Robbie of course, walked in grinning and with their hands full, so to speak, in a matter of seconds.

After half a glass of very bad ale, Hermione could no longer take the constant come hither glances from the local talent. It seemed as if Malfoy had had enough of the plump filly cooing at him from his lap, and so as one, it seemed, they beat a hasty retreat.

It was another night spent with Malfoy, and yet another night walking home with him. This was the second time now and despite the horrors that might lay in store for Malfoy at the pub, she didn't know how she was going to be able to take that horrible awkwardness and constant itch to curse him again, so she grinned nervously at him and asked, "Well now that we've had a breather aren't you going back in to join them? Sounds like fun, actually. It's just too bad I have to be up early tomorrow morning to scout the reserve…"

He in turn gave her a funny look and said, "While I have no doubt it sounds like fun indeed, unfortunately or fortunately, however you want to look at it, I am affianced."

"Oh." Silence. Far away, a cricket chirped. Hermione stared at her boots as she walked, head turned down.

So Malfoy had a fiancé? She didn't know that. Not that, she would have known that, what with her and Harry and Ron staying as far away from him as they could after the War. For some reason though she felt rather shocked. Perhaps it was because she never thought anyone could stand the evil ferret enough to want to marry him?

Oh well.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, and maybe it was her mind playing tricks on her but she thought he looked rather depressed for some reason.

She tried to give a cheery grin, "Congratulations Mr. Malfoy! Who's the lucky girl then?"

"Pansy Parkinson. My girlfriend from Hogwarts."

Oh…well that explained it. They'd been together forever anyway, made sense.

Just like…just like, well, Ron and her used to make sense; or Harry and Ginny. Funny world isn't it, that the couple to stay together after Hogwarts be Malfoy and the Pug?

Malfoy frowned, his eyebrows coming together quite amusingly. If this weren't such an awkward situation, she would laugh.

"Are you alright? You look a bit weird."

She started, "What? Me? Look weird? No, no, that can't be! Ha ha ha ha ha…"

He interrupted before she could finish laughing her fake laugh, "Do you have someone you're back home you want to marry, by any chance?"

Now this was uncomfortable. The word 'marry' somehow brought Ron to mind like a charging elephant, if elephants came with red hair.

"Well, no not really…I mean, I used to, but not any more."

"Why not? What happened between the two of you?"

Why ever are we so curious Master Malfoy?? She groaned inwardly. She didn't really want to divulge the failings of her relationship with Ron to him. It was the last thing she ever wanted to talk about, much less to the creator of "Weasley is our King".

"There were…problems. A lot of problems. He, I mean, she wasn't what I thought she was. Ultimately we just weren't right for each other. Why do you ask?"

He sighed loudly and looked up at the sky with his hands on the back of his head.

"It's just…I don't know why I'm telling you this, but well, it just seems like something is missing somehow."

"Missing?" she asked curiously, in spite of her better judgment.

"Because…I don't know why. She's everything I ever wanted, you know. Blonde hair, long legs, huge knockers…"

"Erm…" started Hermione, but before she could interrupt and say that these weren't exactly the most stringent criteria, he continued, "Yeah, yeah, I know. It's all physical. But she is the perfect pureblooded girl, you know.

"And I know you're muggleborn Grant, and I mean no offense, it's just that…I've always been taught that a girl like Pansy would make the perfect wife. And we've always been expected to get married, and I've never had a problem with that."

"But now?" she prompted.

"But now…as I said, something…something is missing. I don't know. Nothing to do with her really. It's not as if she's changed or anything. It's just that…I want something more."

He stared at her, the two of them underneath the moonlight, with the river flowing peacefully past them, and the leaves rustling in the air. And for one moment, for just one moment…

"Oh, well…" she said, slightly flustered, yet not knowing why, or what to do with herself. "I guess you'll have to figure out what you want for yourself, won't you?"

The moment was broken, and he too turned back to staring at his shoes, at the river, at anywhere except at Grant, confused why he couldn't look at him, not after that…

"And I'm sure you will…" she continued, babbling, "I mean, you're a very capable man, Mr. Malfoy (her inner Hermione rebelled at this, and continued to rage inside her head), and you've always gotten what you wanted, so this will all turn out all right in the end, just you see!"

"Draco."

"What?" asked Hermione, still caught between wanting to dash out her brains against the rocky edge of the river and wanting to talk to him.

"Call me Draco." He smiled at her. And it was a smile so friendly, so unlike him, that she was thrown for a moment. "It's what my friends call me."

"Oh…" she didn't know what to say. "Oh ok."

He looked at her expectantly, as if wanting a response that was more than her feeble reply, but she kept her mouth shut as all sorts of…weird feelings raged about inside of her.

Finally, they had reached the cottage that she, Robbie, and Rhys stayed in. "Well," she said, feeling awfully awkward and somehow feeling as if Draco (no, Malfoy!) had just walked her home from a date, "This is my stop then, nice talking to you…Draco."

For some reason he seemed disappointed. She could see him physically close himself off to her again, going back to the professional relationship that they had before tonight.

Saying a quick goodbye, he turned abruptly to walk briskly to his own cottage. She stared at him as he walked away, not knowing what to do to rectify the situation, not knowing what she had done to make it so, when it suddenly occurred to her.

"Draco!"

"Yes?"

"Please," she said simply, "Call me Hugh. It's what my friends call me."

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As she'd said, things changed.

After that night, Malfoy had, like some kind of lost puppy, started trailing after her, Robbie, Rhys and Alex. He hung out with them at night at their cottage, kept bringing them out for beers at the local pub, and, even more oddly, sent off for a PS3 so that Rhys could teach him how to play 'Coputar Games', as he called them. If she didn't know any better, she would've thought that he liked their company. That thought seemed nonsensical to her however, so she put it down to his being bored out of his mind, having nothing to do on an isolated mountain village. If they had been in Wizarding London, she doubted he would have deigned to spend time with two Muggleborns.

The other guys of course had been delighted that their 'Boss' seemed like an easygoing, fun kind of guy, so different from when they first met him. Malfoy himself seemed eager to please, and she wondered sometimes if he had very many friends he spent time with like this, just goofing around and hanging out. As far as she could remember, Crabbe was still serving time in Azkaban for atrocities against the state, while Goyle was…dead? Missing? On the run? No one knew for sure as he had disappeared a little bit before the end of the War. Still, they never really seemed much like his friends, more like his minions.

Still, Malfoy was Malfoy, and he sometimes still fell into petulant moods where he would shut himself off in his cottage and not respond to anyone's calls, even if they were quite urgent. He muttered to himself a lot, snapped at people sometimes, especially when he thought they were being slow (although his snapping was usually now directed at McGuiness and Fogarty) and liked to boast about the renovations to his Mansion that included: a rooftop swimming pool, a hothouse for roses, his very own indoor Quidditch-playing gymnasium, and, something that even she'd been quite envious of, an expansion of the Malfoy Library accompanied by a collection of rare and precious books.

She'd tried to ask him what kind of 'rare and precious' books he'd gotten but so far he'd evaded most of her questioning with a "Oh, you know, the really expensive kinds." She doubted he actually knew which books he was buying. Part of her hoped he hadn't just sent off for "rare, precious and expensive books" in his order to the booksellers.

Which brought her to the thing that most disturbed her about Malfoy: that he actually talked to her as a _person_. Well, more so than that, that he actually talked to her as if she were a _person he liked_.

And he sought her out to talk much more than he did Rhys or Robbie, for some reason. The latter two he sought out to drink, to play games, to joke around, and to boast about their respective conquests. This made her quite uncomfortable at times, especially when she kept hearing Ron's voice in her head to just "maim the evil ferret already". Worse were the occasions when she actually started to respond to his friendliness, chatting to him enthusiastically, and then inevitably she had to remind herself to whom she was talking to, that, if she didn't remember, this was Draco Muggle-hating Malfoy, and that if he'd known who she really was, he'd probably pull a Furnunculus on her.

But…enough about Malfoy. She stretched happily and took one last sip of her nutmeg coffee, before chasing the boys to get ready and change so they could go shopping at Diagon Alley.

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It was an uncharacteristically sunny day in Wizarding London, something Hermione was very grateful for. It made all the things she'd missed while in Bulgaria all that much more worthwhile once she finally got the chance to revisit them. Flourish and Blotts still held as many lovely books as she'd remembered, Madam Malkin's fashions were still as up to date and sophisticated as they'd always been, and the boys still stared and drooled at the new brooms as they'd always had, something that hadn't changed since they were schoolboys.

Hermione walked away from the dazed boys, tsk tsking and shaking her head in resignation as she let them know she was going to buy an ice cream at Fortescue's. They, of course, ignored her, Harry going slightly dead-eyed as his mouth opened and closed while he silently read the specs of the new Lightning Bolts. She really hoped they didn't cave in and buy the damn brooms; at the rate they were spending their money they were never going to be able to marry and set up house!

She licked her lips in anticipation as she surveyed the different new flavours that Fortescue had invented. Should she go for the Zesty Pineapple Ice, or the more creamy Double Fudge Marshmallow Zebra Delight? She finally decided on a Strawberry Peanut Butter Cream and was handing over her sickles when she heard a soft, silky voice whisper just beside her ear.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Hermione Granger, all alone without her two bodyguards. "

She snapped her head around towards the sound of the voice, and, it was just her luck really, because behind her was none other than Malfoy. Again.

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	7. Friends and Obsessions

**Disclaimer: The characters and storylines from the Harry Potter books belong to JK Rowling ******

**Chapter 7: Friends and Obsessions **

For a moment there, she did not know how to react. Part of her wanted to grin and greet him; the other part of her, the smarter part, wanted to run away as fast as she could, and then yet another part wondered if she should slug him one to show she was "Hermione Granger".

When Draco had seen the bushy head of Hermione Granger from afar (cutting it short did not, unfortunately, veil her untidy and messy locks), he had stalked forth, reasoning that where Granger was, Potter and Weasley were sure to be. To tell the truth, the past few weeks had been wonderful for Draco. Wonderful in a way life had never been. He'd never felt so carefree in his life, it was amazing. Feeling as amazing as he was, he'd wanted, of course, to make someone else's life miserable so he could feel even more amazed. A bout of Weasley-baiting never failed to satisfy.

And he only thought he did this when he was miserable. Turns out, he enjoyed making Weasley miserable no matter what!

He eagerly looked out for her companions as he walked towards her in the sunlit cobble-stoned street. He was a little disappointed to find that she was alone, but decided to approach and tease her, anyway. Granger was always gloriou- no, he meant, like a banshee when she was angry. It was something worth seeing. When he'd reached her, and looked at her, face to face, however, something thoroughly weird happened.

He found himself lost for words.

Facing him was someone utterly familiar to him, for reasons he could not place.

_But well, of course she felt familiar_, he told himself, _he'd known her since they were children, after all. _

But this feeling…it was different, he would bet his family's ill-gotten fortune on it. Around him, the squeals of children as they slurped down their ices and played in the street sounded in his ears, but still he could not look away from her.

Hermione felt her face heat up like Ron whenever he spoke to Fleur. What in Merlin's balled socks was happening to her?! What was wrong? All she had to do was go through the normal steps of Greeting Malfoy. Part 1, she calls him an inbred ferret, Part 2 he calls her a Mudblood, Part 3 she accused him of being a Death Eater and Part 4 he accuses her being in an unholy ménage a trios with Harry and Ron (as if). It was that simple!

"I…I…that is, you…"

The two of them stood under the shade of Fortescue's café, just staring and spluttering at each other, not knowing what to say.

Finally, Hermione could take the suspense no longer. She was sure that if she stood there for one more second, he'd realize her true identity. Letting out a strangled scream, she threw her cone in his face, splattering pink ice cream all over a very shocked Draco Malfoy, and ran for her life.

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Draco had just finished scourgifying the sticky ice cream from his hair and clothes when Pansy hugged him from behind, causing him to start a little in surprise.

"Draaaco…have you waited very long?" Like Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson had not changed very much in the years following the war. Pug-nosed as ever, the girl, nevertheless, had a saucy, come hither look that most undiscerning men found attractive. She had also taken up wearing the kind of clothes one would term 'hooker-lite', and with her highlighted hair, tanned skin, she was the epitome of what most Muggles would call a WAG. [A/N: WAG – Wives and Girlfriends of English Footballers; women who generally shop for a living, and who scheme of ways and means to prolong their 15 minutes of fame. See, e.g., Posh Spice, otherwise known as Victoria Beckham.

Ignoring her hand on his bum, he strode forward to the restaurant they were going to have lunch at, even as he vaguely said out loud, "I just had a really odd encounter with Hermione Granger."

Pansy rolled her eyes and sighed, placing one artificially-tanned hand around his waist as he absent-mindedly scratched his head, "Not her again. How many times do I have to tell you? Just ignore her, and ignore the squib and the dwarf. You keep obsessing about them!"

"I tell you I'm not obsessing Pansy!" he whined. He looked at her unconvinced expression and corrected himself, "I mean, I'm not obsessing _now_, it was a really weird encounter! She stood there as if there were a frog in her mouth when she saw me, and then after some spluttering, dumped her strawberry ice on me and ran off!"

Pansy it seemed, wasn't listening at all. She examined the shiny rock on her finger and muttered, "Yes, yes, whatever you say Draco, Granger is a Mudblood bitch." Her eyes brightened considerably and she turned on him, stopping him on the sidewalk and curling her arms around his neck, "What say for our wedding, we get the Madame Cecile crystals for my headpiece and veil? I just saw an amazing display set at Zabini's! His mother is so fashionable! Do you know her wedding gown had 500 diamonds encrusting the bodice? Isn't that amazing, Draco? Can I have that too, please? Pretty please?"

"Oh," said Draco, "Sure, yes, fine, go ahead dear. Whatever makes you happy."

Draco lost in the mystery of Hermione, had not been listening either.

00000

"Drakkie…wakie wakie my little pureblood sweetie pie…come to Pansy!"

Draco had woken up with the biggest headache ever, one very much compounded by the presence of a very horny Pansy Parkinson in a silk pink negligee, her bosom spilling out of her overly lacy top.

Now normally, he would not have minded at all to give in to her appetites. His appetite was, well, quite substantial too actually.

For some reason though…Pulling back the duvet cover, he pushed her aside gently, "Sorry Pansy, not today, I've got a meeting in about half an hour, and I can't be late."

Ignoring her shriek of protest, he walked into the bathroom, stripped off his pajama pants, and got into his marble bathtub and turned on the shower.

_I wasn't lying…exactly. I do have a meeting, more specifically, a meeting with __Blaise_

He ran his fingers through his wet hair, letting the hot water massage his shoulder blades.

The previous two days he'd spent alone with Pansy had only exacerbated the feelings of loneliness and longing he had for the mountains of Bulgaria and the mates he had there.

In all his life, he'd never had as many friends as he had now. He wondered if it was the seclusion from society and the isolation up in the mountains, that stripped away all class, race and status. Was it that that made men equals, that made them drop down all their wards? To tell the truth, he had not expected to be friendly with them. He expected to have a bad time of it, scowl and whine his way through, and then, when he'd finally gotten his precious land full of gold and silver free of dragons, to get the heck out of there and never see any of those men ever again.

Turns out, almost getting eaten by a dragon really changed ones priorities and ones mindsets. He was so glad to have gotten out alive, so grateful, that part of his mind must have shut down, tearing away all his Death Eater/Hogwarts/Golden Trio baggage, and instead of Draco Malfoy, there was only Draco left.

That had probably been the reason he'd asked the boys (amongst whom included two Muggleborns) out for drinks, thought Draco wryly.

But…it had felt good, being part of gang, part of a group where more than one person actually made meaningful contributions to the conversation (he really did like Crabbe and Goyle, it's just that, well, to this day, he never knew if either one of them could actually read).

Part of a gang he could joke with, play _koputar_ games with, a gang he could even talk to, confide in.

Which brought him to Hugh. Hugh, with his wonderful warm blue eyes and friendly manner. It had felt wonderful to unburden all his thoughts and worries and feelings on him. Something about Hugh made it easy for Draco to talk to him. It was weird, really, because Draco had always made a habit of keeping everything inside. It was the Slytherin upbringing, you know, never let anyone inside your head, or one day someone would use it against you. He'd found that out the hard way, too many times to count. 

The boy was just so…earnest, so sincere, and not in a stupid naïve Hufflepuff way either, but in an intelligent way, a very brave way. If only he'd been in Hogwarts with him, thought Draco.

Who knew what might've happened, how different his life would have been?

_Who knew indeed? _

00000

Unbeknownst to many, the coffee shop that Draco and Blaise usually met in was a Muggle one. True, Draco generally did not like Muggle things and Muggle places. The café they were in, with its peeling wallpaper and sticky table-tops was no exception; it was one of the few places however that he could go to in London without being recognised.

"So…" began Blaise as he idly stirred his cappuccino, head resting on his hand, looking speculatively up at Draco from beneath his hooded brown eyes, "I heard that Ms Pansy Parkinson got you to pony up for a Madame Cecile crystal headpiece. Apologies mate, for showing her my mum's. If I'd known she'd ask you for one I wouldn't have done it. I know how expensive the damn things are."

"It's alright," replied Draco, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes, "I don't really care. Stops her from bugging me and gives me peace of mind for about 2 weeks."

"Ouch." Blaise winced. "Sounds like not all's well in wonderland? I thought you were sure about doing this?"

Draco sighed, and bit his lip, "Well, no, not exactly actually."

"You know, now's really not the time to be vacillating about this. Pansy's really looking forward to the wedding. I mean, why did you even propose if you didn't love her that much?"

"I don't know! I just…well we'd been together for so long, it seemed inevitable…and my parents really encouraged me to, and all that."

Blaise shook his head, "You're pathetic, you know that Malfoy? You always do the things you don't want to do because of your family, or your heritage, and your so-called _values_. You never do the things you really want to."

"What do you mean you wanker?" said Draco heatedly, causing the other patrons to look up curiously from their newspapers. He looked around cautiously, and leaned forward across the table, whispering loudly, "Of course I do the things I want to. I'm a Malfoy. We do anything we want to. Name me one thing I didn't do at Hogwarts!" He leaned back in his seat again and took a sip of bitter coffee.

Blaise cocked one perfectly plucked eyebrow, "Well, take…the Golden Trio for example." He paused to let Draco recover from his coughing fit. It seemed the poor boy had snorted coffee up his nose. "You think I never realized how you always longed to be part of the Golden Trio? You should've just gone up to them and been nice, instead of insulting them and causing trouble all the time. They would have noticed you, still," he said quietly.

Draco folded his arms and turned his pink-tinged face to the side, avoiding Blaise's eyes.

"I never wanted to be part of those band of fools," he muttered.

"Really? Is that why you hoard newspaper clippings of them?"

Draco's jaw dropped, even as Blaise laughed merrily, "Pansy's seen them in your study drawer, you know. You'd best keep your secret things a bit more carefully, she's a sneaky one!"

"That's…that's…research! I'm…plotting ways to…get back at them…"

"Yes, yes, whatever Malfoy. Same old, really." He gave a smirk and abruptly changed the subject, "So, what've you been up to in Bulgaria?" He gave a theatrical shiver, "Ugh. I can't imagine being stuck up there for days on end, with nothing but trite Muggle things to entertain myself with. And I'm sure that Dragon Tamers are a wet bunch. So, okay, I know they must all be quite fit and muscular, what with the physical activities and all that…but still. Not three brain cells amongst them I'd wager."

Draco's mood perked up at the mention of Bulgaria, and his heart lightened at the thought that, tomorrow morning, he'd be back in the mountains, away from the mess that was his personal life.

"No…no, actually. They're all really nice chaps."

"Really?" Blaise asked interestedly, "Do tell."

"I mean, well, they're normal guys really, but fun to hang out with. They're not like us, but they're not…stupid like Potter's gang either. And Koputar games are really fun, you should try them sometime, Blaise!"

"I have no idea what you just said, but go on."

"And, oh, you do know that I was almost eaten by a bloody dragon?"

"Of course I'd heard!" He chuckled, "Though I'm sure you'd have given it indigestion."

"Okay, har-har. Very funny, but you weren't there. I never thought I'd be more afraid than I had been with the Dark Lord. There was this really brilliant chap though, Hugh, who saved my life."

"Oh?"

"Yeah…and he did it…he didn't do it for a reward, you know," said Draco wonderingly, "I mean, I offered and he declined, and he knew who I was."

Blaise stayed silent. He understood all too well the public vitriol that came with being a Slytherin. This was not a topic he enjoyed discussing.

"And he's great to talk to, it's like he knew what was on my mind, and he's really smart too you know."

Blaise rolled his eyes, "If I didn't know better, I'd think you had a crush on this Hugh person. Are you sure you're all right? Or perhaps you're turning to the dark side, hmm?"

Draco gaped opened and closed his mouth, looking quite reminiscent of a goldfish, "I'm absolutely fine! What's wrong about being…happy to make a new friend, I mean friends. They don't care at all about my past, they seem happy to just…let me be me."

"Okay, whatever you say Malfoy, your boyfriend is your business, not mine at all."

"Well…well…please stop transposing your hidden desires on me. Unlike you, I love big tits and a nice fleshy bum." Draco huffed indignantly, "I don't know why I spend any time with you, and you're probably salivating over my gorgeous body the entire time we're together. Disgusting really."

Blaise glared at him archly, "You know, Draco, being gay doesn't mean I have no taste. Consider yourself safe from my depravations."

00000

_The next morning_

"Pansy did you see my black Muggle coat? I thought I left it somewhere around here? Arrgh where is it? It's late and I should've been in my office five minutes ago!" Shirt undone, Draco rushed about getting his things in order. Pansy had insisted on keeping him up all night, and, well, he was a man, after all. If someone gave you a free meal, you'd take it, wouldn't you?

He found her pouting by the bed, holding said black coat out to him.

"Great, thanks love." He kissed her hurriedly, and turned to leave. Pansy, however, had other ideas.

"You seem to be avoiding me lately, is there anything wrong Draco?"

"Wha-at? I don't know what you're talking about…" said Draco, cautiously.

She looked at him accusingly, "Is there someone else, in Bulgaria? Have you met some bitch there then?"

"No! Of course not! Why would you think that? Don't be silly."

"Then you're not obsessed about those three again, are you? I know Harry did save your life, that doesn't mean you have to kill yourself over it every day!"

"I am not…it's nothing about Harry! There's nothing wrong Pans! Don't get so sensitive."

"But you're avoiding me! And I practically had to jump you to get you to make love to me last night, and…"

"Pansy!" Draco barked, causing her to start in her seat, "There is nothing going on, and I'm leaving for my office, now! See you…next time."

With that, he bolted out of his room, and into his fireplace. He'd never been so happy to see his office, and his frightened, stuttering secretary.

"Get me the portkey to Bulgaria," he growled, "Now!"

00000

**Author's Notes: I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I would appreciate it if you reviewed! Thank you! **


	8. Back to Bulgaria

**Disclaimer: It all belongs to JK Rowling**

**A/N: Happy New Year!**

**Chapter 8: Back to Bulgaria**

After fleeing from Draco, Hermione had spent the rest of the day wrapped up in a duvet at Grimmauld Place. Harry and Ron, who had no inkling of what had gone on in Diagon Alley, could not comprehend the sudden change in her behavior. Ron almost had to strangle her to get her to emerge from her fluffy prison.

"Hermione! What's wrong with you? If you don't want us to get the Lightening Bolts, we won't! Promise!" He gave a very obviously self-congratulatory wink at Harry; they had of course, already bought them.

"He knows, he's going to sack me, he's going to sack me! He knows!"

"Who knows? What's going on?"

Hermione sat up in her bed and wailed, "Draco Malfoy that's who! I bumped into him in Diagon Alley! We stared at each other, and then I flung my ice cream at him and ran away! How could this have happened?"

As one Harry and Ron burst into laughter. "You…threw an ice cream at him? What flavour was it? Oh, this is almost equal to the time you slapped him in third year!"

Hermione bit her lip and let out an involuntary grin, "It was strawberry. He had been wearing a white shirt too. You should've seen it; the pink really matched his golden hair."

Harry sat next to her and ruffled her unruly short locks, "Don't worry 'Mione, I'm sure he doesn't know. He probably thought it was business as usual between the two of you."

"But what if he does know?" whined Hermione, "How could I have been so stupid? What if I lose my job because of this?"

And to her pleasant surprise, in spite of all his previous objections, Ron too sat next to her, and said fiercely, "Hermione, if the bugger sacks you just because of who you are, I'll go over to his bloody mansion, tie him up, and shave all his stupid hair off till he agrees to take you back!"

Hermione blinked rapidly in surprise. "Oh Ron!" Sobbing, she engulfed him in a bear hug, causing him to turn pink with embarrassment. He patted her back, comforting her with a "there, there."

"Alright, no more of this Draco nonsense," said Harry merrily, "I say we go out tonight, just the three of us, to celebrate Hermione's return!"

Ron looked sheepishly to one side, "Could we make that four of us? I promised Barbie I'd take her out tonight."

"Barbie? Who's Barbie? What kind of a name is Barbie?" asked Hermione, sniffling and giggling a little.

"She's the bird I've been going out with, you know, from the grocery store." He scratched his head and looked quizzically at her, "Isn't that a common Muggle name? That was what I'd assumed, anyway."

Hermione let out a loud gaffaw. Wiping her tears, she shared a grin with Harry and managed a, "well I guess so, in certain circles."

"Okay then, just the four of us!" cried Harry. "We'll go to this Muggle place in Chinatown I really like…"

0000

Barbie, it turned out, was a really nice girl with not too many ambitions, but who, it seemed, was quite smitten with Ron. She did not however know about wizards or witches, and being a Pureblood wizard, Ron had to struggle quite a bit to pretend to be a normal Muggle boy. Hermione thought she would just die when Ron immediately believed the fortune cookie message of "You will come upon riches today", and insisted on going out there and then to search the streets for his 'riches'.

Luckily, Barbie had just thought that Ron was a bit slow, a "developmental thing you know", as she later whispered to Hermione, one that she "completely understood and did not mind".

Well thank Merlin for that.

Going back to Bulgaria however was a bit harder. True, this time she was going back to a group of guys who liked her, and who she liked back. She even missed Robbie's highly obvious sexual innuendos and Rhys' sarcastic yet good-natured manner, not to mention Draco's…

_Hermione_, she scolded herself, _what are you thinking? You've got to stop thinking like Hugh and start thinking a bit more like Hermione. Draco, whatever he might say, is not your friend!_

Draco, of course, was the main reason why she dreaded going back.

True, she did dread that he would figure out who 'Hugh Grant' really was, but more than that, she feared her own reaction to him.

In Bulgaria, talking to him as 'Hugh' had felt so natural, so enjoyable, that she had let down her guard and forgot who he was, forgot who _she_ was.

But this was a mistake, plainly. Because while Draco was nice to 'Hugh', while he called him a 'good friend', a 'trusted friend' even, she had no doubt that the moment he found out that 'Hugh' was really Hermione Granger, his friendly grin would turn into a snarling visage, his heart and mind closed to her forever.

So it was with trepidation that Hermione apparated to the entrance of D. Malfoy Pte. Ltd. Walking into Draco's office, she was surprised to learn that he would only be arriving the next morning, thus giving the dragon tamers a bit of time to plan their duties and jobs for the next week.

Wish as she might that Draco would prolong his stay in England, the man in question did come at the stipulated time. Hermione had fidgeted and worried herself silly while waiting for him at the entrance to his lands. Stupidly, she had tried to hide behind McGuiness' great bulk once she saw Draco from afar, trudging up the hill. McGuiness however deliberately spat next to her, causing her to jump aside. It was just then that Draco arrived at the hilltop.

It seemed that this time, he had dressed properly for the weather; he wore a white, loose-fitting, long sleeved cotton shirt that he had folded at his elbows, and also wore knee-length baggy khaki shorts. His shirt was half undone, revealing a lean yet broad chest. Combined with his blond hair that glinted in the sun, she had to admit that the effect was quite dazzling. He caught her eye and gave her a grin, causing her to immediately realize that she had been caught staring.

She blushed deeply, turning away. She did not know whether to be glad that he did not realize her true identity, or be embarrassed for actually appreciating his physique. There was a moment when she feared that his grin was merely a cover for possible recriminations to come, but all he did was proceed with the blood ritual, allowing them to enter his lands for a day and a night.

Personal interaction however with him did not come until mid-afternoon, when she was involved in transporting two very precious dragon eggs down from a spindly, unstable looking tree. Why the mother dragoness had left them there was anyone's guess, but they had noticed the eggs for some time now, and it seemed as if they had been abandoned. Hermione worried that the mother might come back, only to find the tree bereft of her offspring, but McGuiness and Fogarty (with whom she had unfortunately been grouped with this week) had insisted they collect and move them to the Bulgarian Dragon's Nursery on the outskirts of Sofia, to be taken care of by professional dragon carers.

She'd only started to say the levitation spell when a large hand clamped on her shoulder.

"What in Merlin's name do yer think yer doing, newbie?"

"Moving the dragon eggs from the tree?" she answered dumbly. She had no idea what the problem was now.

Forgarty gave a derisive sniff, and McGuiness grabbed her shoulder and hissed, "Are yer mad? What if you accidentally drop 'em huh? What if yer get distracted huh, and they go tumblin' down the bloody tree?"

"I…I…I'm sorry, I didn't know…I assure you that I am perfectly competent at basic levitation spells." Hermione said, somewhat more assuredly as she continued.

McGuiness snarled, "Not good enough freshie. Transportin' dragon eggs is a delicate process! _Someone_," and here he looked pointedly at her, "has got ter go up there, and get 'em. That someone, sonnie, is you."

"But I can't…" she sputtered uselessly, "I can't climb trees. And it's so…high."

Now, there were many things Hermione were not afraid of; Voldemort, three-headed dogs, and the sight of Ron eating being amongst them. Heights, was, unfortunately one thing she was very afraid of, something which resulted in her constant poor performance on the broomstick.

"Aw…now that's too bad, isn't it eh? Wingardium Leviosa!"

Hermione gave a little undignified shriek as she realized that she was being perilously lifted into the air by a very uproarious McGuiness and Fogarty. Biting her lip, she tried to still her trembles, breathing deeply in and out. _I will absolutely not allow them to unsettle and make a fool out of me. I will not, I will not…_

And it was so reciting this mantra mindlessly that she somehow managed to float near the eggs, scooping them up and hugging them closely to her chest as McGuiness levitated her down with a sneer.

And so it was that she really should have seen it coming, but distracted as she was with the height, and the eggs, she only noticed at the last minute when McGuiness gave an exaggerated "OOPS!" dropping her 6 feet from the ground.

_The eggs!_ Was her last thought as she felt the spell leave her, and curled protectively over them so they would not break during her fall.

She was expecting her ankle or knee to break painfully, at the very least her tailbone perhaps, and so she was very much surprised when a pair of strong arms caught her instead, wrapping her in their protective embrace.

Her nose butted against her savior's neck, and all of a sudden a fresh, woody scent invaded her senses, reminding her and bringing to mind wide open fields, hayrides, grass and spring and gardens. She looked up at the face of her savior…

_Draco…?_

He smiled kindly, "My turn to save you…" he breathed. He grinned at her teasingly, and Hermione could only stare wonderingly at him as her heart beat erratically in her chest, as if it were dying to burst through.

"I…I…" somehow she managed to come to her senses, and jumped out of his arms quickly. Stammering her thanks, she ran though the forest, eggs in her arms as McGuiness and Fogarty shouted after her, cursing and swearing as they chased the dragon eggs.

It was only very much later on that Draco wondered why Hugh had felt so soft in his arms.

00000


	9. In Which Perceptions are Altered

Chapter 9: Miss Pansy Parkinson

**Chapter 9: In Which Perceptions are Altered**

It was three days before Hermione managed to look at Draco without turning an unattractive shade of magenta.

Three, long, agonising days. She could not sleep well, she could not eat well. The entire time, she constantly berated herself for her weird reactions to him. Smelling his neck? Hayrides? What in Merlin's name had she been thinking? And to run away like that? He must have thought she was utterly mad!

The most galling part of this was that Draco did not seem any worse off. He treated her how he usually did, talking lightly of the progress of their project, coming over at night to play computer games with the blokes; it made her reaction, and now, her _after-reaction_ (or should she say _over_-reaction?) seem so much more mortifying to her.

It was now Friday, the day of their usual night out at the pub. Hermione was tempted to excuse herself with a headache; part of her however, rebelled violently against the thought that she was doing anything at all to show that Malfoy affected her. Demonstrating the steely determination Harry and Ron were so afraid of, she made herself to go.

Robbie gave her a rakish grin when she burst into the pub, chest heaving, eyes narrowed in determination and concentration.

"Oi, so you're finally going to lose your virginity tonight eh?"

"Wha-what…shut your mouth Van Buren!" she shouted huffily.

"Oooh" the boys sniggered, while Draco laughed.

The gentle teasing broke the ice for the rest of the night, and the jokes and laughs carried on as they usually did.

It was close to midnight when Hermione, wiping the tears from her eyes from laughing too much, got up and announced she had to leave as she'd planned an early day tomorrow. Draco followed her to the drunken jeers of their table.

The night air was slightly chilly, signaling the coming of the fall months. Nevertheless, it seemed as if the summer flowers had decided to make one last rally, and the air was rich with the scent of irises and petunias.

Draco stopped by the side of the bubbling creek and skipped a small stone across it, offending the sensibilities of a large toad, which croaked remonstratingly at them as it hopped out of the way.

"When I was at Hogwarts," he began, as he sat down on the narrow ledge beside the creek, "I used to have to pickle toads' skins for detention." He made a face, "it was really disgusting".

Hermione frowned a little. Disgusting? If memory served her correctly, she'd performed detention with Draco quite a few times at Hogwarts. Snape the bastard had always given Draco the easy task of pickling the toads, while she was usually given the task of scrubbing out used cauldrons without magic!

"Well, better than having to scrub out used cauldrons!"

The two snapped their heads to look at each other, having said the same thing at exactly the same time.

Hermione felt her face go red once again. Why did she always have to say the wrong thing at the wrong time!

But it seemed that Draco did not suspect anything, and merely guffawed at her poor fortune. "You too! That's really funny you know, my old Professor used to give the task of scrubbing cauldrons to people he didn't like, because, you know, it really _is_ an awful task. Did your Professor hate you too?"

Hermione fumed inwardly. Yes, that's right. The old snake had disliked her very much indeed.

"You know…" and here Draco's voice suddenly took on an almost wistful tone, "there was this girl at school, the really stuck-up, overly self-righteous kind…"

She grimaced and he mistook the expression on her face for one of sympathy, "Yeah, that kind. Well, I used to do detentions with her all the time. Don't know why. I think Snape, my old professor, probably thought it would be extra punishment for the both of us to spend time together."

Draco laughed quietly, "Snape used to stick her with scrubbing cauldrons all the time! And there I was, getting all sorts of interesting and easy tasks; helping him to pickle toads, preparing research ingredients, learning so much from that old bag while she looked wistfully on. But the amazing thing was, she never complained. Just did what she was told, and did it seriously and well too."

Hermione sat still. She was stunned by Draco's description of her. He had sounded grudgingly admiring. It was something she had never expected; it had never crossed her mind that he would think of her that way, that he would think of her in any way other than as "that Mudblood".

"And, you know, how could I continue believing in all that pureblood rubbish? How could I continue to believe in all that Lord Voldemort said? There they were, a bunch of lousy purebloods killing other purebloods like it was nothing. And then there she was, a muggleborn, doing everything so well, and scoring higher marks than me in every subject!"

Hermione felt her jaw drop. "Draco…" she started, trying to stop him. It was immensely uncomfortable to hear all that he was saying. She didn't know why, since it was all good things about her, but it was somehow difficult to hear this from her once most-hated enemy, for everything she had ever thought and assumed about him was now being repudiated.

But it was as if a dam had burst, and he could no longer control the words he had always wanted to say, the words that he'd never found an audience for. "How could I justify that I was better than her when it was obvious even to me that she had so much magical talent? How could I still think that purebloods were better than muggleborns when I looked around and compared her to Crabbe, Goyle, Longbottom and Weasley?"

Despite her prevailing feelings however, there was a perverse side of her that wanted him to continue. Her curiosity was sparked, and deep down, she wanted to hear all these things, wanted to know how he really felt about her, wanted to know why he did all those stupid things so long ago, and then change his mind about them so abruptly.

"What made you…why did you join Voldemort then?" He raised his eyebrows, and she ducked her head, reddening, "if you don't mind me asking."

He cocked his head at her curiously, and for a moment she wondered if she had overstepped her boundaries.

To her surprise, he gave a sigh and answered, "Well in the beginning, it was an immense amount of stupidity, trying to show how much of a "man" I was. But by the time I was running around trying to kill Dumbledore, I no longer believed in any of that nonsense. I just wanted to save my family and myself. That's all I wanted. Pureblood, half-blood, mudblood; who cared?" He gave a self-deprecating laugh. "And then I discovered that I didn't even have it in me to kill someone to save my family. I just couldn't do it. I just couldn't."

He shook his head. "Why Hugh, am I telling you so much about myself? First Pansy, now this. I hardly know you."

Once again she could not look away, did not want to look away. She just wanted let herself drown in his gray eyes.

He turned back with a small smile, and skipped another flat stone across the creek; "I guess I just feel comfortable with you for some reason. Like I've known you for years, and yet you do not look at me like someone who does. I suppose it is refreshing."

But she did, though. She did know him for many years now. So when did she stop looking at him as "Malfoy the git", and start seeing him as "Malfoy the man"? It was utterly perplexing. She could not deny that she was disturbed. Part of her wanted to leave things as they were, to remain silent and let all that he just said pass. The other part of her pitied him for all he had gone through, and all the difficult decisions he had to make. It was very easy to do the things you knew were right. It was much more difficult to have to struggle with all you had once believed to be true, to ignore and damp down your true feelings and your emotions.

He was no saint, of course. No matter what he believed in the end, no matter that he was not the cold-blooded killer they all thought he was, his first priority was ultimately for his and his family's own survival. But then again, even the best of them were not perfect. Even Dumbledore had been mired in his own youthful mistakes. She was finally beginning to understand Harry's empathy for Draco during those chaotic times, his willingness to forgive what she had always thought to be unpardonable.

She wanted, no, needed to say something to him, perhaps to make up for not giving him a chance all those years ago, for categorizing him as he did her.

"Well…well…we all make stupid decisions when we're young. I mean, our values are shaped by our parents and family, after all. It's not surprising that you thought the way you did."

"But…" she continued, voice rising in volume as she struggled to form her dispersed thoughts into something coherent, "but it's how you deal with things when you've seen the real world and gained real experience that determines your worth as a person, I think. I…read about your case in the newspapers. I read Harry Potter's testimony. I think you tried the best you could, which is all that we can do, in the end."

Deep down, she knew objectively that his beliefs and subsequent actions were hardly surprising given his upbringing. However, it was difficult to think that way when you were eleven or twelve and a boy like him picked on you all the time for no reason. Looking through the more rational eyes of an adult, she realized that he had not been as horrible as the golden trio imagined him to be.

She thought back to the time he had warned her of the Death Eaters roaming the campgrounds at the Quidditch World Cup. He had been rather snide about it, but if he had been truly evil, he could have easily led them to her. And most of his mischief against the golden trio over the years had been much more rooted in his jealousy and resentment of Harry than his hatred of muggleborns.

He stared silently across the bank, and said softly after a period, "You give me too much credit, Hugh. Sometimes I feel ashamed when I look at myself through your eyes. You think too well of me."

He stood up languidly and turned around, averting his face, "Well, we'd better get going." She was much more clumsy however, and had to grab on to his shoulder to keep from falling into the creek as she stood up. As he turned to steady her, she thought she caught a glimpse of wet eyes. But that was impossible, wasn't it?

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Sitting in his office while they discussed the parameters of the dragon reservation, she could barely believe that last night had actually happened. Did they really spend an hour talking to each other by the bank? Did Draco really lay bare his secrets and regrets to her? Did she begin to sympathise with him, and forgive him for all he had done before?

Draco was all business, and she could hardly believe that he had actually managed to read her 100-page report by this morning after their late night.

She supposed she shouldn't be all that surprised however. She did know how determined he was, based on past experience.

He caught her staring and quirked an eyebrow, "You alright?" he said, with some concern, "No hangover I hope? I really shouldn't have kept you up for so long…but I'm glad I did."

Hermione had barely recovered from her shock before a heavy and oppressing scent of roses wafted into the room. She saw Draco's look of panic before realizing there was someone else beside her.

"Darling! Miss me?"

Enter Miss Pansy Parkinson.

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A/N: Sorry a hundred times for the long wait. I thank all who have continued to read and review this. Your kind words spur me on to continue.

Some hints for the next chapter: Pansy and Hermione become 'good friends', Draco starts getting a little confused, and Blaise is more than happy to help clear his mind.


	10. Miss Pansy Parkinson

It was as if a whirlwind had blown in

**Disclaimer: It all belongs to JK Rowling. **

**Chapter 10: Miss Pansy Parkinson**

It was as if a whirlwind had blown in.

"You have no idea how difficult it was to find you!" cried Pansy as she strode purposefully towards Draco, engulfing him in an oppressive hug even as Draco tried vainly to extricate himself from her vice-like grip.

Hermione swore she could hear a strangled, "That was the whole point!" emanate from under his breath.

Pansy parked herself on his lap, intent on smothering him in kisses as Hermione, red-faced, tried her best to look away. "You weren't avoiding me, were you, you naughty boy!"

"How…" asked Draco in a strained voice, "Pansy dear, it's not that I'm avoiding you. You know what a busy man I am! I have many important things to do, and I won't be able to do them if I have such a…" he gave Hermione a pleading look. She chose to ignore it.

"…a marvelous distraction like you around me all the time. Now darling, do tell me, how ever did you find out? It would be terrible if, you know, reporters, or stalkers, or, Merlin forbid, Weasley, managed to find out my location so easily."

"It was your secretary of course."

"I knew it! That woman is fired! I…"

"Darling! It really wasn't her fault. She was very resistant in the beginning, I admit that I used all the persuasive arts I had… and, maybe a few Imperiuses to get what I wanted…" the hawk-like look in Pansy's eye chilled Hermione to the bone. "But isn't this fantastic? The both of us can spend the entire weekend cooped up here in the mountains! Just the two of us…ooh Drakkie…"

"Have…have I introduced you to Hugh!" shouted Draco in panic, and the speed with which Pansy snapped her neck over to where Hermione sat amazed her. It was exactly like a bird of prey. The look in her eyes was shrewd, calculating. She stared at her for a few more seconds than was polite, and Hermione had the sinking feeling that Pansy had recognized her somehow, and was trying, unsuccessfully however to place her in her memory. Thank Merlin for Moody's recognition blocking spell!

Now, Hermione, as a woman, knew exactly how to deal with Pansy Parkinson. A shallow, insecure woman of much less understanding and commonsense compared to Draco, it was simple to see through her wants, desires, and goals, or lack thereof. Hermione knew which buttons to press, which ways to circumvent her usually transparent and unimaginative schemes. Unlike Draco, the woman had not gone through the same trial by fire as he had. Her life during the War was sheltered, almost the same as it had been before it began. Neither she nor her parents had been charged after the War was over, and she was still the same person she had been when she proposed giving Harry up to Voldemort all those years ago…

As a man however (or in the guise of one, at least), Hermione was absolutely terrified. She had heard men describe women like Pansy as 'ball-shrinkers', but until now never knew what they meant. Now she did. Hers were cotton but she could feel them shrinking nonetheless.

Pansy stood from Draco's lap and sauntered towards her, "So _you're_ the Hugh that he's been going on about! He speaks about you constantly, you know. Well I for one am very glad that my Drakkie's found such a good friend."

Hermione instinctively cringed at the saccharine in her tone. She stood and tried not to let her voice tremble, "Miss Parkinson, it is very nice to meet you. I'm…I'm honoured that Draco thinks of me as a friend. Likewise I've heard so much about you from him."

She glimpsed Draco mouthing "nice one" out of the corner of her eye. And it wasn't even a lie really.

"Hmm…interesting."

Hermione screamed inwardly. _What was so interesting!_ The woman was a nightmare! And she was ashamed to admit it, but she was thoroughly intimidated by her big hair, her tight clothes, her over spilling bosom and overbearing perfume.

Worse of all however was that predatory look in her eyes. A look that was currently trained on her like a heat-seeking laser.

"Drakkie dear…you wouldn't mind if I take dear Hugh out for a talk, do you? You must be so busy, and I think as _your fiancée_, I should get to know your good friends better, don't you think?"

_What? What??_ Hermione tried not to yell in opposition. She snapped her head to Draco, but the traitor merely nodded, murmuring his assent.

If he was at all regretful he did not give any indication, and Hermione could only mouth the words "_You bastard_!" to him futilely as she was dragged out of his office by a very determined Pansy.

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They sat next to each other on a very charming bench just outside the cottages. All in all, it was a wonderful day. Birds chirped happily as they went about their matrimonial businesses, the leaves rustled gently in the breeze, and the sun, while high in the sky, was partially obstructed by the lazily drifting clouds.

From afar, the blonde girl and dark-haired boy seemed like lovers enjoying the beautiful day. However, upon closer inspection, one would see that this was far from the case.

Hermione stared miserably in the distance as Pansy eyed her speculatively. Several minutes had passed since Pansy had suggested resting at the bench while they chat.

"So," Pansy said, breaking the silence, "I gather you and Draco spend a lot of time with each other?"

"Ye-es, in a way we do. We work together quite closely…"

Pansy leaned forward, eyes gleaming even as Hermione forced herself not to move away, "Outside work as well? You know, to the pub, or…meal times…?"

"Well, yes. We go to the pub on Fridays; on weekday nights all the younger dragon tamers get together for dinner."

"So – you do see each other very often then?"

Hermione was starting to get very uncomfortable, "What exactly are you asking?"

"Must you be so dense?" Pansy replied, as she turned away from Hermione and threw her hands up in exasperation, "Are all dragon tamers so obtuse may I ask? How ever did an intelligent, marvelous man like Draco fall in with you lot?"

Hermione bristled with anger and irritation. What exactly did this woman want? First she popped in unannounced, then she dragged her away from her meeting with Draco, and now she was asking a whole series of pointless questions, and insulting her intelligence to boot! Slytherins were so typical!

"Let me spell it out since you're obviously too stupid to understand allusions. Draco spends most of his waking time in Bulgaria with you. He's been absolutely distracted ever since he came out here…"

Pansy took a deep breath, "Has Draco…has Draco been seeing anyone out here?"

Hermione stared at her blankly, "I beg your pardon?"

Unexpectedly, Hermione suddenly felt very, very guilty. There was nothing she should feel guilty about, but somehow – she did. A million questions raced through her mind.

_What did Pansy suspect? Did she know...wait a minute, what _was_ there to suspect? I'm masquerading as a man! And why would I distract Draco at all? He thinks I'm a man! So we shared our feelings and opened their souls to one another, but we did that man-to-man, it was perfectly normal! Nothing that would lead up to anything remotely romantic of course! But why had Pansy been acting so oddly this whole while? More importantly though, what is wrong with me?? Why am I even contemplating this? _

"Has he been seeing anyone! Is there some Bulgarian bitch he's been seeing on the side! You should know! You're his friend! Blokes share stuff like this with each other, don't they! Please…just, tell me! I can take it!"

Tears leaked out of Pansy's already red eyes, and the poor woman looked so afraid, as if her whole world depended on Hermione's answer. Hermione suddenly remembered what Draco had said about Pansy, and immediately felt an immense pity towards her. She knew from experience how painful it was to love a man who didn't feel the same way; and more so how trying to keep a man like that could drive one to desperation.

"Miss Parkinson," she began, in a soothing voice, "please calm down. There is no one else."

And it was as if all the air in Pansy had whooshed out as she sighed in visible relief. It seemed as if the woman uncoiled, and it was only in uncoiling that Hermione realized how tightly wound she had been the entire time.

She giggled softly, and said, repeatedly, as she rocked back and forth, "There's no one else. I was worried for nothing. There's no one else."

Realizing that Pansy needed to catch her breath, Hermione looked down on the ground in silence, feeling guilty still, and oddly, sorrowful.

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Hermione stared at the diamond chandelier dripping off the ceiling. _Well, this was certainly a very nice restaurant._ The four-tiered monstrosity glittered blindingly, every facet of every diamond throwing reflections off the walls and ceiling, till a kaleidoscope of fairy lights bedecked the entire room. Gold-gilt curtains and ancient Ming vases adorned the restaurant, and the sheer amount of gold and diamonds liberally decorating the entire place so distracted and offended Hermione ("_why, that plate alone could feed 50 house elves for an entire year!"_) that she forgot, momentarily, what she was doing there in the first place, forgetting totally her plans for escape.

What _was_ she doing here again?

Looking across the expensive oak table at the happily chatting woman, she suddenly remembered.

_Oh. _

In the park, Hermione had spent what seemed like eternity being bawled on by Pansy. She could do nothing but suffer her presence when Pansy, who'd sobbed into her cream silk handkerchief till it was ruined, decided to use Hermione's shirt as a substitute instead.

It had been a mistake, really, to feel sorry for the woman. Her feelings of empathy were totally misplaced. The woman was a monster in five-inch heels.

"Oh, you don't know how hard it's been for me!" Pansy had whined as she sobbed through Hermione's (or, more accurately Harry's) plaid button down shirt.

"I've been so worried, and so stressed! Why, look at my fingernails! They're in horrible condition!"

Hermione glanced down to see a glittering set perfectly manicured nails.

"Just like a common muggle's!" she continued, forcing Hermione to tame her better instincts. Her fingers were absolutely itching to reach for her wand.

_Calm down Hermione, she's just distraught. And anyway, she's always been like this. Why are you so surprised?_

"There, there." she said, patting Pansy on her back. "I'm sure it'll all be alright."

"Well it'd better be!" Pansy snapped. "I didn't spend all that time with him for nothing! I stuck with him, even after all his father's failures, and that cowardly incident with Dumbledore!" She blew her nose violently on Hermione's shoulder, and the latter had to keep herself from strangling the blonde haired witch.

"All...all...my friends and family told me to give him up, but I couldn't! I just couldn't! Because...because...I LOVE HIM!"

Despite the murderous feelings welling up inside her, Hermione was nevertheless rather impressed with Pansy. She cried magnificently, like an old-time Hollywood star.

After crying her eyes out (all the time clutching Hermione's arm like a bloody anemone), Pansy had cleaned herself up, at moments still sniffling piteously like a drowned rat.

Despite her disdain for the witch, it still pained her to see a fellow woman so broken. She reminded Hermione all too plainly of herself.

_First Draco, now Pansy, when did all these Slytherins start to seem human?_

"Why do you love him even though he's so mean to you?" It was a question Hermione had asked herself, many times in the past. And one day she realized she didn't know the answer to that question, and decided to spare both herself and Ron any further misery.

"I expect you wouldn't understand," said Pansy, delicately dabbing the edges of her eyes with a tissue, "after all he is so much more magnificent and accomplished than you are."

"Oh really." Hermione replied drolly. "Do elaborate, please."

"Well as a pure-blood of course he has responsibilities that a muggleborn like you couldn't comprehend!" Pansy returned in a rather huffy manner.

"Responsibilities of tradition, of honour. He carries the name and mantle of one of the oldest and most distinguished pureblood families. He's constantly stressed and worried about his position in society, the Malfoy businesses…and well, the war didn't help him very much either. So much money lost to reparations…and so I _must_ support him!" she said, putting on what Hermione thought to be a false smile.

"And, he must love me," she continued deludedly, "after all he's always given me whatever I wanted. Shoes, clothes, and…oh! The diamante tiara for our wedding! I was going to pick one out today." Biting her lip as if in deep thought, she suddenly turned to Hermione with a puppy-dog expression, "You can come along with me, can't you? I have no one else. Mother is in Italy, and Daphne, that damn girl is off gallivanting somewhere in Manchuria…"

"What? No…I'm sorry but um…there's a lot of work to do and all that…can't be seen slacking off you know…"

"Oh! Not to worry! I'll just tell Draco that I'm bringing you with me! You've been so nice to me, I ought to buy you a meal, and I'm sure it'll be a treat for you to see me try on the tiara!"

_What in Merlin's…_before she could complete that thought however, Pansy had grabbed her wrist and apparated with her to Central London. Slytherins had always been rather good at apparition; she mused. Must be how they always get out of tight spots…

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And now she was stuck at Le Petit Sorciere, being force-fed truffles and caviar on ten thousand galleon plates.

What was wrong with her, really? The old Hermione wouldn't have stood for this. She would have slapped Pansy long ago for her Dumbledore comment, and never would have allowed herself to be dragged here to listen to Pansy drone on about her wedding. Being Hugh Grant was certainly more difficult than she'd originally thought it would be!

"Hugh, are you listening!" Pansy suddenly said, rolling her eyes, "I swear you men are all hopeless! Here I bring you out to such a nice place and all you do is stare at my boobs!"

Hermione head snapped up. WHAT?

"Why would I want to stare at your boobs? Women's mammaries aren't something that I regularly look out for!" she snapped.

Pansy gasped, and Hermione felt her face turn red.

_Merlin, what did I just do!_ _She knows! She knows she knows she knows she knows she knows! How could I have been so stupid! _

After about 15 seconds of shock-induced silence, Hermione immediately tried to control the damage that had been done.

"I mean…yours are perfectly fantastic mammaries, I mean breasts, but you know, as a polite English gentlemen, I find the ogling of women's private parts to be very rude indeed, and disrespectful! You know, women's rights have made great advances in the last fifty years, and I wouldn't want to…"

"You're gay." said Pansy, with a certainty that could have survived a landslide.

Hermione felt her jaw drop. "N-no…I'm not! Let me assure you…"

"Yes you are! Draco tells me that like him, you always avoid those cheap prostitutes at the Bulgarian bars. You leave with him every night…"

She suddenly gasped.

"Don't tell me you're trying to make a play for Draco? How could you!"

"NO! I'm not!" Hermione shouted, causing the other patrons of the restaurant to glare at her in consternation.

"Oh I'm just joking!" Pansy said, guffawing loudly. "Sorry darling, even if you wanted to, you could never capture my Drakkie. He is one hundred percent heterosexual. Believe me, I know." She winked at Hermione, who, at this time only wanted to bury herself under the thick carpet in embarrassment.

"Oh this is even better!" Pansy suddenly squealed in happiness.

"What?" said Hermione again blankly. Her heart was still thudding at two hundred beats per second, and her mind had yet to catch up to all that had happened in the last five minutes.

"Well, I've always gotten along so well with gay men! No competition and all that. And your group has such good taste. My best friend is gay! Do you know Blaise Zabini? Oh you may not, I forgot that you're from Beaubaxtons. But he is very often featured in Wizarding Tatler with his new pet or other."

Blaise Zabini was gay? Well, that wasn't entirely surprising. He was a student who usually kept to himself, but Hermione had noticed him and always thought him very well turned out in his school uniform. Always impeccably and fashionably attired, unlike some other male students she could name…

She supposed she now had to go along with the lie of her being gay. No doubt Draco would find out about this very soon, but she had no other choice. She only hoped that her friendship with Draco would not be negatively affected as a result.

_Wait a minute…friendship with Draco? Why would I care about that!_

"…Now I have no qualms whatsoever about shopping with you! I was worried for a while that I might've brought along a dud with no taste. I mean, your outfit leaves much to be desired. But I suppose that's just your attire for work…" as Pansy prattled on, a horrified Hermione found herself being led out of the restaurant. When was this nightmare ever going to end!

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Hermione barged into Draco's office, arms and legs aching, but filled with a burning anger and bitterness. Far from being startled, Draco merely looked at her blankly.

"Shopping! Six bloody hours of shopping! And I had to carry all her bloody bags! And constantly assure her that she did not look fat in that! Merlin, the woman even asked if she looked fat while trying on earrings!"

Draco continued to stare vacantly at her, which only made her angrier. She barged up to his desk, slamming her hands down on the tabletop.

"This is all your fault! How could you do this to me! You knew what I was in for! You did it so you could escape yourself, didn't you? Well, this is the last time I trust you, Draco Malfoy!"

Uncharacteristically she leaned over and grabbed his shoulders. "You have to stop her!" she continued, now frantically and in panic, "she wants to do this again next weekend!"

Their faces were now inches away, and Hermione suddenly realized how close they were to each other. This close, she could once again breathe in his highly comforting woody scent. She could see clearly every contour of his sculpted face, and the fine baby hair that brushed the edge of his forehead. Blushing, she made to move away and apologise, but Draco had reached out, holding her cheeks firmly yet gently between his large hands.

And then he kissed her.

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A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed! Your encouragement spurs me on.

Next up: hilarity ensues (the promised Blaise and Draco chapter).


	11. Draco's Nightmare

Next chapter:

**Disclaimer: It all belongs to JK Rowling. **

**Chapter 11:** **Draco's Nightmare **

To tell the truth, when Hugh had barged in, all Draco had seen was a blistering archangel. Ash brown hair flying around him as if it were a halo, cheeks rosy and eyes glittering, chest heaving. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He was magnificent. And he had mesmerized him.

Reaching out for him had felt like the most natural thing in the world to do.

The kiss had lasted mere seconds, the lightest touch of lips, but one that had sent an electric sizzle down his spine, so pleasurable and yet so painful that he immediately realized what he had done, and pushed the other man away.

Till now, Draco could only think about how soft Hugh's lips were, and how much he wanted to sink into them again, to devour his full meal after that tantalizing appetizer.

But that was absolutely ridiculous. He wasn't gay! Was he? WAS HE?

Hugh had been speechless after the kiss, and Draco didn't blame him. He groaned with embarrassment when he remembered again the flabbergasted look on his face. Hugh's mouth was gaping like a fish, and it seemed as if he would go into epileptic shock.

Draco could only frenziedly babble his apologies, blame his actions on lack of sleep, and had apparated immediately from the cottage to prevent any further humiliations.

He went to the first place he could think of to prove his sexuality: Pansy's.

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"Drakkie! Oh what a surprise! I didn't think you'd come see me today."

For the first time in years, that high-pitched squeal was music to his ears.

"Pansy! Just the person I want to see!" Before she could even move, he'd strode up to her, grabbed her bottom, and kissed her hard.

And…nothing. There was nothing. No electricity, no tingling up his spine. Oh, there was the usual stirrings of his manhood, but the feeling paled in comparison so much with his previous kiss, that he immediately let go of her in disappointment.

He walked over to her bed and sat down, brooding.

"Oh Draco, you haven't done something like that since we were in Hogwarts!" Pansy giggled, climbing into his lap.

"What a wonderful way to cap off the day."

"Hmm?" he murmured distractedly. _Why did he not react with Pansy? _

"Lunch, shopping, and then you."

"Right." _He can't be gay! He'd never felt anything for other men!_

"Ooh, I have the most amazing news!"

"What is it?" _Then again, he had been avoiding Pansy lately…_

"I've found a new shopping buddy! It's Hugh. But don't worry about us spending too much time with each other, because he's gay."

"HE'S WHAT??"

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"Alohamora!"

Forcibly opening the door, Draco banged his way into Blaise's impeccably neat apartment. Unlike most Wizard's apartments and houses, Blaise had eschewed the ornate and ostentatious furniture favoured by most purebloods like the Malfoys, or the charming eccentricity preferred by the Weasleys. His own mother's villa was filled with modern and elegant Italian decor. Blaise had taken it one step further, with cream designer Italian furniture contrasting with sleek obsidian marble. A bright emerald Jacobsen Egg Chair sat to the side of the living room, the only hint of colour in this monochrome world. In the furthest corner of the apartment, a ghostly white "unicorn" suspended in a tank of formaldehyde stared gloomily at the visitor as he entered the sitting area. Draco sneered at it. He could never understand Blaise's affectations for muggle things. Why buy a dead horse with a fake horn stuck on it, when you could hunt down and stuff the real thing (which was what Abraxas Malfoy had done)? He made his way to the bar counter and poured himself a glass of firewhiskey using his wand.

Downing the hot liquid in one shot scalded his throat, but the kick was a welcome one to his nervous system. "Blaise! I know you're in there!" he bellowed from the first floor of the maisonette. "Get your arse out here damn you!"

"What is it, you bloody ferret! It's past midnight and you woke me up. You're lucky I don't have a bloke over." Blaise grumbled exasperatedly as he walked down the aluminum spiral staircase, rubbing his eyes and yawning pointedly. This was not the first time a raging Draco Malfoy had barged into his apartment in the dead of the night, requesting his presence. To counteract the disturbance of his privacy, he'd set many different locking charms over the years, but the bastard broke them all.

Draco downed another shot, liquid fire surging through his body. It was a disaster, that's what it was. His entire life was a disaster.

Blaise sat next to him on the barstool and buried his head in his arms on the bar top. "What is it now? Is it Pansy? Your parents? Please don't tell me this is about the Golden Trio. I really don't feel like hearing you whinge about them tonight."

Draco froze, not knowing how to broach the subject with his best friend since the end of the war.

It had been a trying time for the Malfoys. Having testified against all their former allies to ensure their own survival, their old friends were mostly either dead or in prison. And anyway, he doubted any of them would want to reacquaint themselves should they ever be released from Azkaban. Along with the Malfoys and Parkinsons, there were very few Slytherin families who'd gotten off scot-free. The Zabinis were one of them, and bore the distinction of not even needing to pay reparations.

Draco had never spoken very much to Blaise during their Hogwarts years. The boy had been cool, standoffish, and always seemed to look upon Draco and his groups' antics in disdain. Mother had reminded him however that the Zabinis were not to be messed with, and so Draco had mostly left him alone. Following the war, his family had more or less taken the Mafoys in, with Zabini's mother declaring that "we Purebloods need to stick together". Cool at first, Blaise soon warmed up to Draco, especially since Crabbe and Goyle no longer haunted his steps. He'd proved a calm and steady character, the foil to Draco's (and Pansy's) highly volatile nature.

"I..." Draco began, and then faltered. Looking down at the black marble floor for inspiration, he mustered what little courage he had, and asked softly, "How did you know you were gay?"

Blaise groaned tiredly, "What kind of a question is that? You wake me up at 1:00 a.m. in the morning to question my sexuality? Merlin, Draco!"

"Just answer the question!"

Blaise sighed, and mumbled facedown in resignation, "There was a boy at school I admired (and no, that boy was not you). Admiration turned into obsession and attraction. I realised my feelings were not of a platonic nature and accepted myself for who I was. End of story."

"Oh." Draco replied, forlornly.

"Again, what does it matter?" he raised his head and cocked his brow, "heh, is it because you've fallen for your new bosom buddy. Hugh, his name was, wasn't it? Have you finally seen the light my brother?"

Draco's pale face turned an immediate red. He spluttered wildly as he tried unsuccessfully to deny Blaise's words.

"Dumbledore's beard!" Blaise swore, as he sat up from his hunched position. He stared at Draco's disbelievingly, "You have fallen for him!"

"Just...just stop it right there! I haven't fallen for anyone!"

Blaise laughed, "And this will be the first time! How marvelous!"

"Hugh is a man! I'm not gay!"

"That's what they all say in the beginning."

Draco stood up and paced back and forth, "It must've been a mistake! There's no other explanation. Why would I kiss another grown man? Right, must've been lack of sleep. I didn't manage to get much sleep last night, did I? Maybe I mistook him for a woman in my delirium. Yes, that must be it..."

But Blaise only heard one thing. "You kissed him?"

Draco turned swiftly and grabbed the shorter man by his lapels and roared, "I'm not GAY!"

"Then why are you HERE?"

Draco let go of him and sunk into the sofa. "I don't know!" he moaned. "I went to Pansy's first, just to prove that what happened was a mistake. But I felt...nothing. Well, I felt the usual stirrings, but it was nothing compared with…and then she tells me that...Hugh is gay."

"Well," said Blaise as he folded into the seat beside Draco's, "This is big news."

"Oh shut up." Draco said. "It's stupid, that's what this is. It makes no sense whatsoever. I've never been attracted to men!"

"Maybe it's because you've never tried…"

Draco shot him a lethal look, "No, that's not it. Look, I feel nothing when I look at you."

"Right back at you." Blaise returned without a beat.

"But see, when I look at a woman, even if I don't feel anything for her, I know when I like what I see."

"Hmm…maybe it's just Hugh."

"What do you mean?" asked Draco tiredly.

Blaise shrugged and continued, "I mean, maybe it's not that you like men, maybe it's just that you've only fallen for him."

Draco lay back and groaned, "Merlin, how do I find out?"

Blaise's eyes twinkled mischievously, "I know just the place."

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The gay scene in England's Wizarding world had been helped greatly by the outing of the late Dumbledore by his brother, Aberforth. After Rita Skeeter's infamous biography on him, his brother, having forgiven Dumbledore for all he had done, had felt compelled to release a 'more accurate' version of the events that occurred. In order to 'clear Albus' name' Aberforth had included all the details of Dumbledore's romantic dalliance with Grindelwald, including all one hundred and six love letters, out of a misguided notion that people would 'understand his actions better' if placed in the correct context. The book had been an instant sensation. Middle-aged witches all over England were seen clutching a copy and sighing dreamily at their romantic yet tragic love story. Even Molly Weasley had been enthralled, much to the amusement of her children. Public empathy for homosexuals, who were once shunned and shoved to the shadows increased greatly. Overnight it seemed, gay bars and clubs sprouted up all over Wizarding London. Wizards and witches from all over the world looking for something different congregated here, as not all parts of the world were as accepting.

The club that Blaise had brought Draco to was the most exclusive, and famous one of all. Pulsing music and seductive beats could be heard from the outside, and a long line of patrons streaked as far as five blocks back. The wizards near the front grumbled as Blaise, dragging along a very reluctant Draco, strolled nonchalantly through the empty VIP entrance.

Once inside, Draco was assailed to a totally different world from the one he was used to. Strobe lights flashed erratically across the faces of the wizards in the club, only making the scene before him even more bewildering and unfathomable. There were wizards in traditional robes, wizards in tight muggle clothing, wizards wearing hardly anything at all, and even some dressed as women in frilly lace gowns. There were dwarves, drunk house elves, fairies flitting above the heads of the larger patrons, and even a centaur or two. Candlesticks danced in the air, an anachronism that was more traditional rather than functional.

As he continued to look around, he suddenly realized that something was terribly wrong.

"Why are there so many men with black hair and thick glasses? And I swear one of them had a lightning bolt scar on his forehead! But that wasn't Potter!"

Blaise sniffed disdainfully. "Oh. That. Well, he's very popular around here. People like to dress up like him. Thinks it makes them cooler."

"You're joking! Potter, cool??"

But that was not the worse of it.

"Why are there so many men with long straggly beards and ugly hats?"

"Dumbledore wannabes. He's quite a cult figure for the gay community here you know. Didn't you read the book?"

"I know Aberforth's book! But this is ridiculous!"

Blaise shrugged. "Well, beats me. Hey look, I've got to go. I've arranged to meet someone here."

Draco's jaw dropped. "You're. Leaving. Me. Here? With all these freaks?!"

"No, no, no." Blaise said soothingly, "I'm not leaving you here, I'll still be here. I just need to pop over to meet someone, that's all."

Draco grabbed him around his shoulders, "No, you can't leave me here! What if…" he looked around furtively, and then whispered, "What if someone tries to pick me up? We all know how good-looking I am…"

Blaise glared at him. "Sod off Malfoy. And get over yourself." He turned to leave, but Draco grabbed him again, forcing him to turn around.

"But what am I to do here without you?" he cried plaintively.

Blaise sighed, and relented, "Look, you're wondering if you're gay in general, or if you've only fallen for Hugh, right? Well…go test that theory out! See if there's someone here you like, someone you feel attracted to. Maybe someone who looks like Hugh? Sorry Draco, but I've really got to go now."

Draco let go of Blaise reluctantly, and the other wizard soon disappeared into the crowd.

All around him, wizards swayed to the hypnotic tones of violins. Rasputina, the latest sensation on the Wizarding Wireless was wailing a mournful tune on the stage. As he looked around, he could see couples draped in each other's arms. Bereft of Blaise's company, Draco stood rooted to his position, lost in the sea of dancers and lovers. He knew what Blaise said was right. The best thing he could do now was to get to the bottom of this, to figure out his feelings. But every part of him screamed to stop. He was afraid to find out.

Sighing, he walked to the counter and ordered a butterbeer. He was standing in a corner, nursing his drink, when someone suddenly tapped him on the shoulder.

For a moment he could not speak. At first he had thought that the man before him was Hugh. He had the same ash brown hair and slight build. While also elfin in appearance, on second glance Draco realized that the two were really quite different. While Hugh was warm as a fireplace in winter, this man was cool as an icicle.

"Buy you a drink?" the man asked.

Draco was tongue-tied. Apparently he was more handsome than he thought.

"I – um, have one already, thanks."

"What's that, a butterbeer? What are you, still underage?"

Draco bristled slightly, and replied coolly, "I suppose I wouldn't mind a firewhiskey."

Three drinks later and the two were laughing uproariously as though they were old friends.

"You were in the same class as Harry Potter? You can't be serious! How was that like?"

"Horrible. He was constantly out to create trouble at school. Git thought he was better than all of us." Draco said, a sneer marring his features.

"Hmm, I went to Durmstrang, but from the papers it always seemed to me that he was a snotty attention-seeking brat."

"That describes him perfectly well!" cried Draco, "You're amazing!"

The man smiled smugly, and leaned closer, "I can be amazing in other ways too."

Draco suddenly felt a hand caress his bum.

A cold, repellant feeling shot down his spine. "What are you doing?" Draco asked rigidly.

The man whispered creepily into his ear, "What do you think I'm doing?"

A bat-bogey hex later, Draco walked disgustedly out of the alcove. He couldn't believe he had just been sexually harassed! Brushing invisible dust off his pants, he set off in search of Blaise. He'd enough of this place.

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After walking around in what must have been circles, he finally spied his friend. He was about to call out to him when he realized that Blaise was in a heated conversation with another man. He sighed in exasperation. Not another bloody Potter look-alike! It was infuriating, really! How could the two most popular heartthrobs in the gay world be Harry Potter and Dumbledore!

_Bloody Potter wannabes_, he grumbled to himself as he walked toward Blaise. Why the hell would anyone want to look like that nerd? The man was ugly for goodness sake! He squinted at the wannabe. This one even had his messy hair down pat. His height was the right size too, just a centimeter above midget. He also had to admit, that the glasses he sported were a very good replica. Almost like the original! Come to think of it, that scar was fantastic too! He would know of course, he'd stared enough daggers into it at school. Why, if he didn't know better, he'd think this was really…

_Hold on, wait a minute!_

_THAT _WAS_ POTTER!_

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A/N: the "unicorn" in formaldehyde is an actual art piece by Damien Hirst. Other ghastly items in his collection include dead sharks and a "golden"-horned calf

A/N 2: I tried to write as fast as I could! Hope you enjoyed it.


	12. The Golden Trio

Harry: confused about his identity also

**Disclaimer: The usual – characters and storylines of the Harry Potter books belong to JK Rowling. **

**Chapter 12: The Golden Trio**

If not for the fact that he was also standing in said gay club, Draco would have thoroughly taunted Harry about his homosexuality.

As it was, there was nothing he could do other than stand there open-mouthed, as both Harry and Blaise snapped their heads towards him, faces flaming purple, as if they had been caught red-handed doing something terribly naughty.

Draco turned to Blaise and asked dumbly, "What's Potter doing here with you? Was _he _the person you arranged to meet with?"

"What are you doing here Malfoy?" Harry asked angrily.

"What am I doing here? What are you doing here you wanker?" yelled Draco.

"Pot calling kettle black, aren't you?"

"I'm NOT GAY! I'm just here to…to…"

Suddenly, Blaise, who, during this exchange had been stonily silent, spoke up.

"Both of you, shut up."

He turned to Draco. "Just go home. And don't try sneaking into my apartment tonight if you know what's good for you."

Turning to Harry, he continued bitingly, "Potter, you're either in or you're out. I'm not going to waste my time any longer waiting for you to make up your mind."

Without another word, Blaise strode out of the club, leaving Draco and Harry staring awkwardly at each other under the lights of a rotating disco ball.

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It was the early hours of the morning. Dawn had barely cracked when Hermione, red-faced and breathing heavily, finally popped into 12, Grimmauld Place.

On the sofa, Ron snored gently in his usual occupation, having clearly fallen asleep mid-way through watching the telly. According to him, the television was the muggle world's greatest invention ever (after the rubber ducky of course).

A loud crack resounded behind her, and she turned to see an exhausted Harry walk past her and slump against the side of the wall.

She hadn't seen Harry so tired since the War. Her own worries forgotten, she rushed to his side.

"Harry? Are you alright?"

"Wha-Harry? You're back?" Ron mumbled, as he sat up. Hermione belated realized that Ron had most probably been waiting for him to come home, and her heart clenched.

Breathing heavily, Harry stood up with difficulty, using the wall for support. Even from where she stood, Hermione could smell the firewhiskey on his breath, and the cigarette smoke on his clothes. She wrinkled her nose. "Harry, where have you been?"

He bit his lip, and looked down, avoiding her concerned stare. "Guys, I have to tell you something."

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"I'm gay."

"What?" Hermione cried in shock.

"Oh." Ron said.

Both Harry and Hermione turned towards him in unison. "_Oh?"_

Harry frowned. "That's all you've got to say? Oh? You don't seem very surprised."

Shaking his head sheepishly, Ron replied, "No…um – I'm not, really. I've suspected for a while now, actually."

Hermione's jaw dropped open. She couldn't believe that the usually oblivious Ron had spotted something that even she had not noticed.

"How…?" she sputtered incredulously.

"Well…I first suspected when you broke up with Ginny. She told Mum…who told Charlie…who, well, told me…that there had been some problems in the bedroom."

Harry blushed furiously.

"Actually," Ron continued, "Not so much problems as a serious lack of action."

"But," Hermione interrupted, "That doesn't mean anything! It could just have been a loss of interest, or maybe even a lowering of his sex drive..."

Still blushing, Harry said loudly, "When the both of you are done discussing my sex life, please let me know."

Hermione looked down shame-faced.

"I er…also followed you." said Ron, a hangdog expression on his freckled face.

"What?" Harry squeaked disbelievingly.

"Well, when your friends are out all the time, it gets quite boring at home you know!" He said defensively. Rounding on Harry, he continued accusingly. "You were keeping secrets! We're friends! We're not supposed to keep secrets from each other!"

"And…" he faltered, "It was not just Harry, but you too Hermione! The both of you stopped telling me things! Well, maybe it's my fault for being so depressed and boorish all the time these days…and maybe you didn't want to trouble me with your problems…but I'm concerned about the both of you too!"

Harry and Hermione looked at each other guiltily. Perhaps they had ignored Ron more than they'd realised. Hermione felt terrible. Here she was, so preoccupied with her job, her problems; forgetting that Ron was going through a very tough time, and still needed, no, deserved her support, whether or not they were together.

"We're sorry Ron, for ignoring you all this time."

Ron scratched his head self-consciously, somewhat mollified. "It's okay. I was just wondering when Harry was finally going to tell us what was going on. Did you really think we'd turn our backs on you once you spilled the beans?"

Harry sighed. "I was afraid that would happen. I mean, Ginny's your sister too. I thought you'd never speak to me again."

"Well, it can't be helped, can it?" said Ron in resignation. "It's not your fault really. Better that you found out now and broke up with her, than string her along for the rest of her life."

"Harry," said Hermione earnestly, "We'd never shun you! You're our best friend! I don't care if you're gay or straight or if you've decided that Goyle is your soul mate. Harry, we love you. That's not ever going to change."

Harry rubbed away the tears leaking from his eyes. He really didn't want to cry now, but it was too late – the floodgates had opened. And all this time he had been so worried, so guilty and confused. He was so afraid that if he owned up to his true feelings, he'd lose his best friends, the only family he'd ever known.

"Aww Harry don't cry." Ron said, looking away, eyes suspiciously wet. "You know I can't deal with that sort of thing."

"Ron! Stop it! Why is it that after so many years you still have the emotional range of a teaspoon?" Hermione punched him on the shoulder, tears streaming fiercely from her eyes as well.

Harry could do nothing more but pull the two of them in a wordless bear hug, as they alternately cried and laughed under the watchful and delighted portraits of Harry's parents, and Remus, and Sirius. The portrait of Snape sneered condescendingly at them as usual, but they didn't let that spoil their relief and happiness.

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"So…" Ron said somewhat sneakily, as all three settled down to a simple breakfast of pumpkin juice, porridge and scones, "Who's the lucky guy?"

Harry almost choked on his all-raisin bran oatmeal.

Ron grinned cheekily. "Don't even try to hide it! I always saw you with a tall, dark man, but I never managed to catch a look of his face."

"Mm-lase Sabinee…"

"I beg your pardon?" Hermione asked, as she strained to hear him.

Harry swallowed his food loudly and repeated sheepishly. "Blaise Zabini. I've been seeing him for the past six months."

"Not a Slytherin!" shouted Ron in dismay.

"Oh stop it Ron! There's nothing wrong with Slytherins," Hermione's face colouring as she said this. "Blaise Zabini is a perfectly good choice. He has a level head on his shoulders, and will be able to take care of Harry."

Ron shivered. "Hermione, it's scary how much you just sounded like my mother."

Harry smiled, looking down as he played with his porridge. "He is a great bloke, isn't he? And I've been absolutely horrible to him, to be honest. For the past six months I've been blowing hot and cold, stringing him along…"

He looked up at both Hermione and Ron. "I…I need to apologise to him. I'd just been so unwilling to admit how I felt, so ashamed and embarrassed, I really didn't think of his feelings, and took him for granted, calling him out of the blue when I wanted to see him, and then ignoring him for days."

"Woah," Ron said, "See that 'Mione? You've got to admit that I was a way better boyfriend than Harry was."

Hermione giggled. "Oh alright. I admit it." She placed her hand on Harry's shoulder. "Harry you just need to tell him what you just told us. I'm sure he understands that you were confused. If you just apologise and explain things to him, I'm sure he'd forgive you, especially if he really loves you."

Harry beamed at her, and Hermione could tell how deeply he felt for Blaise. "Thanks 'Mione."

The trio had once again commenced their breakfast when suddenly, as if realizing something, Ron turned to her questioningly. "Oi, I thought you weren't scheduled to be back till next week? What are you doing here anyway?"

All at once, Hermione's feelings of happiness and well-being were sucked out of her. Her idyllic breakfast ruined, she could only stare at the ground as a feeling of dread instead crept stealthily up on her.

"Um…in the spirit of, you know, telling each other things, I actually have something to tell you too."

Ron groaned. "As long as it's not about you dating a Slytherin! I can only take so many of them in my life."

"Well, ha, ha," she laughed weakly, "Not exactly…"

Dear Reader, you and I, are, fortunately, far enough away from 12, Grimmauld Place that we did not have to suffer Ron's ear-splitting scream of anger.

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**A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing. I know this seems a bit thin on the action, but the next chapter will be meatier! **


	13. His and Her Circumstances

It had taken a while, but Harry had finally managed to restrain Ron long enough for Hermione to make her escape from the house

**A/N: It all belongs to J.K. Rowling**

**Chapter 13: His and Her Circumstances**

It had taken a while, but Harry had finally managed to restrain Ron long enough for Hermione to make her escape from the house.

Disastrous was too mild a word to describe Ron's reaction to _her_ news. Even Harry had been silently furious in the way he had previously reserved only for Voldemort and Bellatrix Lestrange.

Perhaps she shouldn't have revealed that what scared her most about the whole episode, was how much she had _liked_ it.

There! She'd said it. Admitted to herself and to them in an uncharacteristic moment of honesty.

Yes, she had been shocked, and yes, one some level, aghast. But she could not deny that, as he had brought her close to him, hands warm around her face, her heart had beat rapidly like a tiny bird fluttering its wings. She could not deny that her chest felt close to bursting when he finally placed his lips on hers. She had not even tried to push him away.

She had never felt this way before, and did not know if she would ever, again.

Of course, the situation was not as easy as it sounded. Boy meets girl, they fall in love with each other and live happily ever after, etc., etc. In their case however, it was an undeniable fact that they were enemies in the first place, and now there was an added complication of gender confusion and false identities. She didn't know what to think or make of the whole situation. Hugging herself from the chill air as she walked down Diagon Alley, she headed to the only place other than the Hogwart's Library that could calm her nerves, Flourish and Blotts.

The door jingled as Hermione made her way in. Rows upon rows of books were laid out before her, each one of them promising a new world of knowledge. She waved to Mr Bosley, the cashier as she headed up the creaking wooden stairs. It was still early in the morning, and even though it was a Sunday, it seemed as though she was the only one in the shop.

She trailed her fingers across the leathery spines of the books. She had always loved their smell, inhaled them like it was the best perfume. When she had been younger, her frantic mother had slapped an old book away from her grasp, explaining that the smell she so loved was partly that of mould. Being a cleanliness freak as she was, she had nonetheless never really minded.

Lazily browsing, she caught sight of a tome on dragons whose title sounded interesting, and eagerly reached for it. She had thought herself alone and safe in her tiny kingdom of books, and it was therefore rather disturbing when she felt a strong tug from the _other side_ of the shelf.

The tugger gave a shout of irritation, and moved the book aside (Hermione's fingers still of course stubbornly clinging to it), and looked through the opening. The shock of recognition made her let go. The blond hair and sneering visage were unmistakable. It was Draco.

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To say that it had been a rather trying morning was a great understatement.

Abandoned by Blaise, and stuck with the Midget-Who-Lived, Draco had stood, stranded on the dancefloor, not knowing what to do next.

The worse was having to watch Potter cry. Now Draco had always wished to make him cry. But this was another matter altogether, one he had not been entirely comfortable to witness. Against all his better judgement, he had actually patted the man on the shoulder, even putting in a "there, there".

And after that…well, what else was he supposed to do! He'd accompanied Potter to the bar, and watched silently as the wizard downed glass after glass of firewhiskey, rather impressed with his drinking ability in spite of himself.

He should have known better, though. After all his good deeds, what did he get in the end? He'd tried to help a very drunk and stumbling Potter out of the club so he wouldn't be molested by the hungry eyes staring all around, but had only been pushed away and rebuffed.

Really, the man was lucky that Draco only watched him walk away, and didn't try to get him back for all that he'd done in their younger days.

In his heart however, Draco knew he couldn't have done anything bad to the man. He had seen the hurt look in Blaise's eyes. This was no fling. He knew his friend loved Potter, and had loved him for a long time. And, childhood enemies or not, he could not hurt the person his best friend felt so deeply for.

After the whole debacle, Draco had apparated home to attempt a few winks before daybreak, but, as expected, his floo had rung again and again with calls from a very angry Pansy, who was trying to find out where he had disappeared to last night.

Tired and frustrated (i.e. extremely pissed off), he had made his way to Diagon Alley to walk alone in the cold but refreshing air. Somehow, he had wandered into Flourish and Blotts, and had been rather pleased to note that he was the only customer there.

It might not have been obvious, but Draco did like books very much. His library at home rivaled that of Hogwarts, although dark magic books did take up a larger portion of his collection, compared to the latter. While Flourish and Blotts did not stock the kind of…genre he preferred, it nevertheless had a wide range of titles, and could usually be counted on to stock some of the more interesting ones.

The tall bookcases ran in row after row on the second floor, which was magically expanded by a spell. Up here, there were places that the light from the windows did not entirely reach, and he had to squint to see the titles in the shadows. His eye caught sight of a book on Dragon mating habits and the magical and chemical signals they released, and without realising, he immediately thought of Hugh.

"He would love a book like this," Draco murmured to himself, as he reached through the shelf to take it.

At the very same moment however he felt a tugging from the other side. Exasperated by his continued ill-luck, he had pushed the book aside to bring all his pent-up wrath down upon the poor sod who had dared to look at the same book, and was momentarily struck silent by the person he saw.

_Hugh_…blinking his eyes, Draco suddenly realised that it could not have been Hugh, for he recognised the person on the opposite side as someone else.

Why, it was Hermione Granger.

The girl had let go of the tome the instant their eyes had met, but Draco still could not get over how he had mistaken her for the other man.

Her cupid bow's lips had fallen gently open. He stared at her. "There's something…different about you."

He walked over the other side of the bookcase, even as she stood frozen and rooted to the floor. "I can tell you cut your hair, but there's something else isn't there…"

What was it? He could not put his finger on it, but she was different, somehow, from the last time he remembered. _More alluring_.

"Wh…what are you talking about Malfoy?" she sputtered, "There's nothing else different about me. I've just cut my hair, that's all. There must be something wrong with your eyes…"

Usually he would have sneered at her nervousness, but for some reason seeing her somehow helpless only made him feel more _excited_. He stalked closer to her, and for some reason she did not stun him, or slap him, or push him away, but backed slowly into the bookcase.

"My, my, what have you done? What is it about you that has changed?" Draco said softly.

"I still don't know what you are talking about," she squeaked, "and if you know what's good for you you'd get away from me, now."

"But what if I don't want to?" he whispered. For some reason, he was irresistibly drawn to her. He did not know why, or how, or what was happening to him. He just needed to get closer and closer to her, to breathe in the perfume of her body, to sink into her. Slowly, he moved closer, almost pinning her against the bookcase. Still, Hermione made no move to stop him.

He reached out his hand to stroke her neck, and she shut her eyes tightly and moved her head away, straining to get away from him, but yet not trying very hard. Had he never noticed how smooth her creamy skin was? Slowly, and torturously, he bent his head down to the curve of her neck to breathe in her scent. He could feel her tense under the length of his body, causing his own to stiffen in response. He could take this no longer, and without warning, he pinned her arms against the bookcase, and suckled her neck.

His lips left bruising marks down the length of her neck as he marked her again and again. He could feel her try to resist him, but that only made him push his body harder against her soft and pliant one. His lips moved from her neck to the swell of her breast, and it was finally then that a sharp pain spiked in his groin. Howling with pain, he hopped away and fell to the ground.

Well, he supposed he had it coming. She had kneed him in the groin.

He steeled himself for more retribution, a Furnunculus perhaps, or the ball-shrinking curse that McGonagall had supposedly taught to all female students. He deserved all that, and more. But before he knew it, she had already dashed away. The door jingled, then slammed. And she was gone.

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_Oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin! _

She had literally gone from the frying pan to the fire. What the hell had happened back there? What was Draco thinking?

For a moment she had been so worried that he had seen through her. She had tried to resist him, but even she had to admit that her attempts were half-hearted. No, the truth was, she had wanted his touch. Wanted to just fall and meld into him.

She was in big trouble.

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"Hello? Nothing wrong I hope?" The cashier stood over him, a concerned look on his face. "I heard a shout, and then the Miss ran out. Lover's quarrel?"

Draco lay on the floor, and shook his head as he laughed. Lover's quarrel? No, that was not it. What was true though was that he was going utterly mad.

Since when did he like Hermione Granger? And here he thought he was gay! What was he? A homosexual or a lover of his family's enemies? Which one would his parents more likely disown him for?

Mr Bosley shook his head as he walked away, leaving Draco to his crazed laughter.

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After walking around for what seemed like hours, Hermione finally resigned herself to her fate, and apparated back to 12, Grimmauld where a stern-looking Harry waited to begin the interrogation.

In one corner, Ron sat fuming, arms straining against the invisible binds. The once neat sitting room was in complete disarray, with burst cushions and shredded paper strewn all over the place.

"I had to restrain him," said Harry coolly, "although the good news is that this episode really sped up his magical recovery."

Hermione sat heavily on the couch and sighed. She stole a look at Ron, who was currently staring daggers into Harry's back.

"Hermione," began Harry, "I want you to know that all this is because we're concerned about your safety."

After that incident with Draco, Hermione had to admit that Harry was right in being concerned.

He stood up, and began pacing in front of her. "I'm…not sure how well you know Malfoy. Maybe he's changed, maybe not. I never thought he was irredeemable. And Dumbledore thought of him well enough to want to save him from true evilness. But…" Harry paused, biting his lip. "He may be good to you as Hugh Grant. He may like you. But how do you know how he'd react when he finds out you've been deceiving him, when he finds out you're Hermione Granger?"

Hermione knew very well that all this was true. Her own mind had been turning this over and over in her own head. Draco's treatment of her in Flourish and Blotts didn't do much to persuade her of his bad intentions toward "Hermione Granger". For all she knew, this was another of his ways to torment her, and stupid her had let him. Thank Merlin she had the presence of mind to kick him in his socks when she did.

But despite knowing all that, she knew also how she felt deep down inside. She knew that she had fallen for him.

She had fallen for Draco Malfoy, the boy she hated most in Hogwarts. He was the first person to ever call her a mudblood, and was also the one who had laughed cruelly when a mis-cast spell lengthened her teeth to beaver proportions. This was the boy who had hurt her friends time and time again, who had joined the Deatheaters in their hatred for muggleborns, and the boy who had almost killed Dumbledore.

It was stupid, it was illogical, but all she could think of was the look on his face during the times they spoke to each other beside the flowing river in Bulgaria. When it was almost as if they were in a world of their own.

"Harry…I know. I know all this. But…I don't know what to do. I don't know how to stop…how to change what I feel."

"You're joking!" shouted Ron from across the room. "Harry, tell me I'm not hearing this. Tell me this isn't true! I misheard, didn't I? Didn't I?"

Harry sighed and sat down next to her, putting an arm around her hunched shoulders.

"Look, I know how it feels to love someone you know you shouldn't. And I know how it feels for your brain to say one thing and your heart another."

Hermione buried her nose in his chest, the familiar scent of his soft laundered t-shirt soothing her nerves. "I know," she said, her voice muffled.

Harry sighed again. "I just hope you know what you're doing. Sooner or later he will find out. And once he does…well…I want you to be prepared for his reaction. He may no longer be the charming, kind man you described, at least not to the real you."

"I kn-know…" she sniffed piteously as she tried to keep herself from crying. She'd known what she was in for when she signed up for this. Knew that pretending to be a man came with sacrifices. But she never expected that one of the sacrifices would be her heart.

"There, there," said Harry gently. "Remember what you told me this morning? That you didn't care if I loved Goyle, you'd always be my friend? Well, right back at you. You'll always be my best friend, even if you do love Malfoy."

He turned to look behind him. "You feel the same way too, right Ron?"

Ron shot a murderous look back at him. "I do feel the same way of course…but that's not going to stop me from going over to kill that bloody ferret, once I'm out of these binds!" he struggled in his seat futilely, and Hermione had to smile in spite of herself.

Harry smiled cheekily and continued, "And, well, I have to admit, you haven't chosen that badly. At the very least Draco is very good-looking in that 'bad boy' way."

Ron let out a shriek of disbelief.

Hermione giggled. "Ah, you noticed, didn't you? Was it in 6th year, when you kept following him around and insisting he was up to no good?"

A wry smile ghosted across his features. "Come to think of it, I was probably a little _too_ obsessed. Now I know why."

Ron had gone so red it seemed as if fumes were being released from his nostrils. "Harry! What in Merlin's bloody balls are you saying! What is the world coming to! Arrgh! I'm not listening! I'm not listening! I didn't hear that! Lalalalalalala…!"

It was with a much lighter heart that Hermione returned to Bulgaria. She knew the consequences of loving Draco, but had decided to accept her feelings as they were. Her first priority was carrying out the job she had been hired for, the one she so loved. After that, come what may, she would find a way to get through this.

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**A/N; I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you to all those who had reviewed the last one. I know I've said this before, but I can't emphasize how much your words encourage me, and of course, how they make my day ******


	14. Declaration

**Disclaimer: It all belongs to JK Rowling, yada yada. **

**Chapter 14: Declaration**

Compared to the time she had doused Draco liberally with strawberry ice cream, Hermione realized that her return to Bulgaria this time was not as fraught with anxiety as she expected. On the contrary, she felt calm and at ease. She had accepted her feelings towards Draco, and not having to constantly struggle with how she felt made it much more easy to concentrate on her job as a Dragon Tamer. Here, she was grateful, as the work was invigorating and stimulating as usual.

Today was another fine day in Bulgaria, and while summer was waning, it seemed to want to prove it had something in it yet, and the sun's rays shone brightly as she squinted into the distance. Two dragons wheeled around in the clear sky within the confines of the enclosure, and as always she was captivated by the gracefulness of their flight despite their breadth and size. She had always been fascinated by their ability to fly. Physics and common sense dictated that something so large and so heavy should not be able to lift itself up in the air. Unlike birds or planes, dragons were all out of proportion for flight. The improbable magic they possessed that allowed them to do so was great indeed.

"Careful there!" cried Rhys, who supported her as she balanced herself on the rocky hill.

"I know, I know. Sorry about that!" She laughed with exhilaration as the light wind ruffled her hair. "I'm just so excited to see them up in the air. And it does seem that the invisible barriers are holding."

"You know, we could've taken a broom," Rhys grumbled, "My legs are aching!"

Hermione shivered despite the warm air. "Nooo…brooms and me…don't really go well together. You're free to go up there yourself if you want to."

Rhys could not help himself from laughing at Hugh's theatrical fright, and threw a friendly arm across his shoulder.

It was at this unfortunate point that Draco came across the couple. Denial and recriminations towards his actions over the weekend notwithstanding, he had spent the entire time since his return to Bulgaria feverishly looking for the object of his obsessions. The joy in his heart when he caught sight of him from the trail below was frankly rather disgusting. Even more so was how incensed he felt when he saw Rhys beside him in a rather compromising position.

The measured, suave phrases he had practiced were immediately thrown out the window, and the words were out of his mouth before he could even blink.

"What are you doing?" Draco barked, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

"Excuse me?" asked Hermione as she brushed her hair off her face and looked towards him.

For a moment she was speechless. His messy blond hair shone in the late summer sun, looking very much like spun gold. Weeks in the Bulgarian wilderness had given his previously pallid complexion a healthy tan. Today, he wore a forest green tunic that perfectly set off his features, making them sharper and more focused. His eyes sparkled and his cheeks were flushed a pale pink.

Nevertheless, she immediately realized that something was not quite right. His patience was obviously strained, and it seemed as if a vein jumped as Draco struggled to control his anger. "I said, what are the both of you doing?"

Hermione and Rhys both looked at him in confusion. "Nothing. Rhys and I were just checking on the dragons to see if the enclosure was large enough. It's very important that they have enough space to fly and hunt."

But it seemed as if he did not hear this, and it was obvious that his anger had not abated one bit. "Use a balancing spell for Merlin's sake," snarled Draco. "Just because you're muggleborn doesn't mean you have to act as disgustingly as they do."

Hermione's jaw dropped open at his words. Before she could say anything however, Draco turned abruptly and strode away.

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Dusk was soon falling, and as yellow turned to orange and melted into grey, Hermione's anger slowly burned. She fumed as she banged her way into the shared cottage. "Just because you're muggleborn…" she mimicked as she stormed up the stairs. Why, she'd had it with him and his prejudices! And for a while there, she'd thought he had changed! Well, she had clearly been mistaken. He was still a lousy, no-good ferret…

…And yet she still loved him.

Her anger escaped from her all at once, and she sighed, feeling oddly deflated as she skulked into her bedroom.

Where Draco sat on her bed as he looked pensively out the window.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, shocked and somewhat embarrassed as she realized what a mess her room was in.

He turned to her with a forlorn look that all but thawed her stony heart. "Um…apologizing to you?" he replied sheepishly.

Hermione was speechless for the second time today. "Oh…I see," she finally said, as she leaned awkwardly against the wall across the room. Draco's proximity (and in _her_ room) made her feel unexpectedly uncomfortable. She was suddenly reminded again of their kiss…and his subsequent actions at Flourish and Blotts. She could almost remember the feeling of his lips on her neck, and the memory made her flush with embarrassment; a slow, burning feeling that crept from her breast up to her neck.

She spied a look at him from the corner of her eye, and realized immediately what a mistake that was. Draco's full attention was trained on her. His gaze was faithful, patient, _hungry_, and it thrilled yet frightened her. His eyes bored into her as if they were trying to see into her soul, and she felt naked and defenseless.

"I'm sorry about today…and also about Friday actually." He laughed to himself bitterly, "I really don't know what's gotten into me these days." He stood up and began pacing left-to-right.

Hermione smiled weakly. "It's alright. Forget about it. We're all stressed. The deadline's coming up and we still have so much to do, and making all this worse, the dragons are all going crazy with their hormones and going mad in the reserve…"

It seemed as if he had not heard her babble at all. She suddenly realized that he was standing right before her. "Well, actually I do. It's you. You drive me crazy."

"Um…sorry?" Hermione spluttered, not knowing what to say. "I mean…I…well I know I really shouldn't have – "

He put a finger to her lips, shocking her into silence.

"Shhh. Listen."

She nodded mutely. Up close, she could see the dark bags under his eyes, and the frown lines on his tensed forehead. She could tell that he was tired, jumpy, and uncharacteristically nervous.

"This is…difficult for me," Draco began haltingly, "I mean, no offense to you, but you _are_ a man and a muggleborn, basically the completely opposite of what I had always looked for in a partner…"

"Since Friday…I…I have sought to persuade myself that it had all been a horrible mistake, tiredness perhaps, or some kind of hallucination." Hermione didn't know if she'd been insulted, but continued to keep silent nonetheless. He began pacing again, his arms clenched together in front, his bloodshot eyes looking down at the wooden floor.

"I am sure you could not have imagined my weekend." He laughed self-deprecatingly as he remembered the events that occurred; the queer club Blaise had brought him to, the discovery of Harry's secret, the incident at the bookstore with Granger.

"I…tried to run away from what happened while everything just fell apart all around me, till I came to realize how flimsy my entire existence was." He shook his head in disgust.

"I didn't want to admit it. I…still can't believe I'm admitting it, but throughout it all – one thing remained constant. For some reason…" he paused, trailing his fingers achingly across her cheek, as he stared wonderingly at her. Hermione's breath began to come in short spurts, and she vaguely wondered at the back of her mind if she was hyperventilating.

"…For some reason, I could not stop thinking about you. You…consumed me. I even checked to see if you'd placed a spell on me but I couldn't find anything."

Hermione gaped at him disbelievingly. "I did not place a spell…"

He put his finger to her lips once more and whispered hoarsely, "Let me finish. If I'm honest with myself…then I've been thinking about you for a long time. I'm not lying when I say I've never felt this way about anyone in my entire pathetic life. I don't care if you're a man, if you're muggleborn. I trust you, wholeheartedly. You've been a better friend than I could have hoped for. Than I deserved. I…would give up everything to be with you, my reputation, Pansy, everything I had ever been taught, all my stupid pureblood ideals…if you would just give me a chance…"

All Hermione could do was stare dumbly at him.

Her first reaction was that this had to be the worse, most disjointed declaration of love she had ever heard.

But then, after a few tense seconds…it was as if fireworks were erupting in her belly, as if something inside her had burst open and all her nerve ends were singing in pleasure. She felt as though she were flying, but instead of being frightened as she usually was, she felt euphoric, ecstatic. _He wanted to be with her. He could not stop thinking about her. He would give up all that he was for her. He loved her. _

It was entirely by accident that she caught a look of herself in the dressing table mirror. Staring back at her was a boy with short ash brown hair that came down slightly over his ears. His irises were a startling deep blue, and even from here she could tell that they were fringed with long, luxurious lashes. His square jaw and semi-broad shoulders however gave away his sex.

And she understood then that it was not 'her' Draco spoke about, but 'him'.

She remembered Harry's warning, and all at once, she felt a deep and painful sense of loss. For a few seconds, she had allowed herself to fantasize of what might have been, a glorious world where Draco returned her feelings, where he trusted her, respected her, loved her enough to give up all that the Malfoy family stood for. It was worse then if he hadn't spoken at all.

Draco looked worriedly at Hugh, straining to see signs of what his reaction might be. Truth be told, he hadn't planned on saying anything to him at all. The entire weekend was a mad swirl of events that climaxed with his attack on Granger. After all that, he had apparated straight home, poured himself a glass of the strongest firewhiskey, and tumbled into bed.

It had been the end of his world as he knew it. First he kissed a man. His employee and good friend. Then, he sexually assaulted Hermione Granger.

He had screamed so loudly into his pillow that all his house elves had rushed to his chamber in a titter, scrambling about, asking what was wrong with Master Draco. He had just wanted everything to go away, everything; to turn back the clock as if nothing had happened, to go back to the times they had in Bulgaria, when it was as if they had been there forever, and Voldemort and Harry Potter and his father had never existed.

And so it was in this spirit that he had returned to Bulgaria. His plans however were foiled the moment he saw a laughing Hugh, his brown hair flying around him like a halo in the wind, his cheeks flushed pink with pleasure. He was lost the moment he set eyes on him.

He had been so angry when he saw that Rhys was with Hugh, holding him. He never wanted to see another man touch Hugh again, ever. He wanted to keep him by his side forever. To shrink him palm-sized and keep him in his pocket, only bringing him back to his original size so that he could do all sorts of naughty things to him.

Whatever happened at the club, whatever happened with Potter, whatever happened with Granger…well, he no longer cared.

He never thought that he'd fall so irrevocably, irreversibly in love with anyone. He hadn't even thought he was capable of loving anyone other than himself (and his mother of course).

He looked again at Hugh, searching his face for some kind of a reaction. And with a sinking feeling, he began to realize that Hugh was crying. Crying, with rivulets of tears streaming down a face that looked tragically up at him.

Alarm grabbed hold of him. He couldn't stop himself from babbling.

"I mean, I realize that this must come out of the blue for you. You must be shocked. Everything has happened very quickly. Take…take as long as you need to consider this…this isn't a joke. I'm…I'm not some weirdo trying to take the mickey out of you, I really…do feel for you, and you _are_ gay, aren't you?" his voice had gone higher and higher as he realized that Hugh's tears were not stopping. The man just sat there, weeping as if he had just heard the worse news ever, as if…he was about to hurt someone, badly.

It had never occurred to Draco that once he confessed his feelings, they would not be returned. The possibility suddenly became all too real. Aghast, horrified, and feeling as if his heart were splintering into pieces, Draco backed away. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…I'll…I'll never bring this up again. You'll never have to endure this from me ever again. I won't bother you anymore…I – "

He turned and fled, and so did not hear Hermione's strangled call of his name.

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	15. Don't Judge a Book by its Cover

**Disclaimer: I'm just bringing them out to play, don't sue me. **

**Chapter 15: Don't Judge a Book by its Cover**

She was still weeping like a little ninny when Rhys found her sitting disconsolately in her bedroom.

"Are you alright?" he asked in concern.

"Just…leave me alone Rhys. It's nothing, just that time of the month." She said as she continued to sob.

"What time of the month?" Rhys asked in confusion. Hermione did not even have the strength of will or mind to correct her mistake.

"If all of yer princesses 'ave got the time to be sitting 'round and cryin', I've gotta job fer yer!" It was McGuiness, who grinned at a crying Hermione as if Christmas had come early.

Rhys put his hands in his hair and sighed with exasperation. "This isn't the time McGuiness."

"Well I don't know what yer mean?" McGuiness said in mock confusion. "I really do gotta job. An' even despite everythin' I'm still yer boss."

"Fine! We'll do it!" said Hermione savagely.

"All right, hold yer horses! We all know yer a genius but let me explain," he sniggered.

Apparently, the magical sensors had picked up that an adolescent dragon had gotten free from the reserve. Hermione and Rhys were to find it, subdue it, return it where it belonged and fix the breach that allowed it to escape.

The next morning they set out on their task. According to McGuiness, the sensors in the eastern perimeter of the reserve had been activated, and so they trudged eastwards uphill in silence as they looked around them for possible escapee dragons.

"Are you really alright?" asked Rhys, his face screwed up in concern. Like her, he shouldered a knapsack but also carried his broom – an essential according to him, for dragon taming.

"Yes," she said vaguely and unconvincingly. "I'm much better now, thank you."

She went about the search mechanically, hoping for the first time to get this over and done with quickly so she could return to her room, take a dreamless sleeping draught and close herself off from the world.

_Just one more day_, she kept telling herself. _Let me escape from all this for one more day and tomorrow I'll snap out of it. _

Rhys sighed but said nothing. The two continued in a surprisingly easy silence until a growl jerked them out of whatever reverie they were in.

He turned swiftly to look at her and nodded. Slowly, they crept closer towards the sound, and Hermione removed the neurotoxin-filled globe from her knapsack in preparation.

Finally, they reached the clearing where the dragon lay. And it was then that Hermione began to panic in earnest.

"But…" she stammered, backing away, "This isn't an adolescent!"

In front of them stood an ugly red beast, as tall as a four storey building and large as an oil tanker. It turned to them, and grinned evilly in an almost human-like fashion. Hermione never forgot a dragon. It was the Chinese Fireball that had tried to eat Draco Malfoy.

"Rhys!" she screamed again as she slowly backed away. She could feel her fear slowly bubbling up from deep inside of her. "This. Is. Not. An. Adolescent!"

Rhys shouted exasperatedly, "Of course this isn't an adolescent! We can all see that this isn't an adolescent! So what? Get out your nerve gas thing!"

"I only brought half a dose!" she shrieked in panic. "It's not enough! It won't knock him out! It was supposed to be young! 2 people can't handle a fully-grown dragon!"

"Yes we can!" Rhys shouted even as he looked for possible holes in the dragon's scaly armour.

"No, we really can't!" she screamed again, this time hysterically.

"Just…shut up! Things don't always go as planned all right! They don't always go as you've planned and no amount of work or organization can help it. Sometimes we just have to deal with it!" The dragon lunged towards him and he darted left and grabbed his broom.

His words shocked her back to the present. _You have to deal with it._ He was right. In more ways than one.

"Come on!" he cried, reaching out his hand to her. "Jump on!"

Hermione scrambled towards him. She was so close. But before she could reach him, a large, red ball of fire shot out between them and she threw herself back, landing painfully on her behind. She could smell her burnt hair. Her palms stung from the flames that singed her skin when she'd held them out instinctively to protect herself.

"Hugh!" But Rhys had no choice but to lift himself into the air as the dragon turned its attention toward him.

No sooner had it got between Rhys in the air and her on the ground, however, it immediately turned back, giving her a very self-satisfied grin indeed.

She knew she was in grave danger but she really had to admire the brute's cleverness. For some odd reason she was reminded of Draco.

"Hugh! Run!" Rhys shouted, even as the dragon advanced closer and closer to her. She clenched her jaw. Any moment now it would lunge. Its grin grew wider, and its wings blew a tiny Rhys aside as if he were an irritating gnat. Rhys kept on flying into the Fireball's line of sight, but to no avail. Its attention was trained unerringly towards her like a heat-seeking missile.

_Ok. Calm yourself down Hermione._ She thought to herself. _Hadn't you done this all the time at Hogwarts? Coolness under pressure was her forte. Think. Think of what you could do. _

She looked at the swirling mass that half-filled the transparent globe. It might not knock him out, but it could seriously befuddle its senses, and that would be a mighty advantage indeed.

Without warning she threw it in the air as hard as she could and screamed the spell to break open the ball and release the neurotoxins.

The coloured fumes dispersed into the air in front of the dragon's nostrils, and for a millisecond she rejoiced as she saw it breathe in the fumes.

It sniffed once, then shook its head as if trying to remove a bus that had parked right in front of its eyes. But when Rhys came close its tail whipped instinctively to brush him away.

With great effort the Fireball focused its attentions on her once more, and Hermione's heart sank. Well, time for Plan B.

And deep down she knew very well that like McGuinness she had no Plan B.

The toxins did work on some level however, though not very effectively. The Fireball's movements were slower, and it swayed from side to side; but it was still conscious, and still it came for her.

Just when Hermione thought she was dragon meat – the Fireball suddenly lifted its nostrils in the air, sniffing speculatively. It smiled evilly again.

Was it another dragon? Hermione's heart sank further at the thought. But what she heard next was not the growl of another dragon, but a very familiar shout that came from a long way off, and grew in volume as it came closer and closer on a high-speed broom.

"Draco?" Hermione whispered in confusion. What was he doing here?

"Come and get me you great big brute!" roared Draco as he flew temptingly near the dragon's grasp. "Remember me, eh? Remember how delicious I smelled? Yeah, much more meat than that scrawny thing down there aren't I?"

Like a bullet, the Fireball diverted its attention from Hermione, going straight for the tasty morsel that had evaded it the last time.

"Draco, no!"

"Rhys, take Hugh and fly away!"

"Sure thing Boss!"

"What? No! Why can't I stay? Draco don't be an idiot, you can't handle it on your own!"

"You can't stay because you're too valuable to risk, and I'm sure Rhys agrees with me!" Draco replied breathlessly, even as he continued to dart and dodge the dragon's attacks in the air.

Hermione jaw dropped open so wide she wouldn't have been surprised if an insect had flown in. And why had he even mentioned Rhys? Draco had sounded mightily petulant when he mentioned the other man's name for some reason, but she supposed now was not the time to wonder about that.

_Boys!_ She screamed inwardly. Why were they so...irritating? Wait a minute, wasn't she a 'boy' as well? Why wasn't she being treated like one? Rhys flew to her but she brushed him off. "I can't leave!" she shouted. "I have to help Draco!"

Without another word, she turned and ran towards Draco and the dragon, who were still very preoccupied with one another. Luckily for the dragon tamers, the team had very early on applied a spell on restricted areas just outside the enclosure that prevented escapee dragons from flying. Unaccustomed to its inability to fly, the Fireball was getting angrier and angrier as Draco, time and time again, flew near the Dragon's grasp, before dancing away on his broom each and every time. Really much like how he managed to dodge punishments during his Hogwarts' career.

But Hermione could tell that he could not keep this up for much longer. Draco was panting heavily from exhaustion, and the dragon only got better and better at predicting his movements on the broom. It would not be long before it caught him.

She could not allow that to happen, she thought grimly. She ran forward, hitting the dragon's armour with a stunning spell to attract its attention to her. It growled furiously and as expected, turned to her with a malevolent glare.

"Hugh!" Draco yelled. "What are you doing? I thought I told you to get out of here!"

She kept her eyes on the dragon. "Draco we need to work together to deal with this." She looked to Draco and Rhys who hovered near by, and then turned quickly to the right of her shoulder. They both understood almost immediately.

As one, the trio started stunning and goading the dragon in turns, moving it in the direction they wanted it to take. Before long, the Fireball stood on the precipice of a well-hidden cliff. From afar, it did not look as if there was a roughly fifteen feet gap between the mountains at all, because of the lush leafcover of the overhanging trees. A very acrobatic human might safely navigate a bridge between both sides, but the trees had no chance of taking a dragon's weight.

Draco flew in between the two cliffs. He grinned rakishly at the aggrieved dragon, and Hermione sighed gustily with relief as it took the bait, falling in between the two cliffs as it reached out too far.

On hindsight it had been a very stupid mistake to run to the edge and look down; she'd wanted to reassure herself that the dragon would not fall through the cliffs, but get stuck between them instead (as she had predicted).

So to Draco the scene that unfolded before him was very much like those Muggle horror movies he had watched with the blokes that summer. Just when they thought they were safe, one very large claw reached out from between the two cliffs and ploughed violently into Hugh. The man was knocked into the air and when he fell his skull cracked ominously upon contact with the hard-packed ground.

Draco could no longer think. He only knew one name. Hugh. _Hugh_. "Hugh!" he cried as he ran towards him. In the background, he thought he heard Rhys cast an immobulus curse on the dragon but what consequence was it even if the dragon managed to get to all of them? Hugh was on the ground, bleeding, and that was all that mattered to him.

"Hugh!" The man remained unconscious. _He had such a peaceful look on his face, with the blood fanning out from his head like a halo._

"Hugh!" he wailed, howled. "Don't leave me," he sobbed quietly.

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He had best healers from St Mungo's come in from London within the hour. He had pleaded with them, entreated them, even threatened them to save Hugh's life, but in the end, that was all he could do. He had no choice but to leave them to their work as he paced the living room of the cottage.

Rhys had tried to calm him down but it was all Draco could do to stop himself from punching the guts out of the wizard. _Why did you not see this coming!_ Draco wanted to scream. But most of all he blamed himself. Why hadn't he seen it coming either?

It was several hours before the healers emerged from the bedroom, the longest hours of Draco's life.

He descended upon them immediately. "Is he alright? He's alive, isn't he? Isn't he!"

"Yes Mr. Malfoy, please calm down. Your friend is alive and well."

"If he's alright why can't you meet my eyes?"

His colleagues behind him grimaced, and the head healer continued looking down at his feet as if he felt guilty about something.

"Does he have some long-lasting injury? Is he disfigured?"

"No." the healer replied quietly, even as Draco rushed past him into the room.

Hermione Granger looked up at him from the bed.

"You." he said, backing away, "What…what are you doing here? Where is Hugh? Is this some kind of a joke?

"No…Draco…wait, I can explain. I'm…I'm Hugh…"

It was as if his whole world cracked into pieces, all over again. "What is this, some kind of a plot?" he said brokenly. "Still trying to take my family down, aren't you? Pretend to be someone else, get close to me, and then get me to tell you all my secrets?" he could hear his voice become more and more hysterical. But he could not help himself. There was a tiny hole in his heart that grew bigger and bigger with every second, a black whole that obliterated his entire self.

"No!" she sobbed, "No I would never! Please, Draco just listen to me. I can explain."

"Draco? Don't call me that." He looked at her, and the cold expression on his face frightened her. "Only my friends call me that."

He turned around, and walked out the door.

Hermione could only put her head in her hands and cry.

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Note: Hermione's disguise faded because it had been more than twenty-four hours since the charm spell was applied.

A million apologies for the long wait. As always, thank you for reading and reviewing. One more chapter to go!


	16. He's a Woman

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters belong to JK Rowling, I am not making any money off of this, etc. **

**Chapter 16: He's a Woman**

It was another sunny day in Bulgaria. All around the mountains wild animals went about their marital businesses, and insects busied themselves with getting ready for the coming fall. The brook bubbled as cheerfully as it always did, and even the toads and frogs seemed to want to torment Hermione with their garrulous songs.

It had been a week since the Chinese Fireball had attacked her, and Draco had not come back to the reserve at all.

Hermione had been puttering around Draco's office, putting together some administrative documents when a 'pop' sound revealed a most unexpected guest – it was Pansy, who looked like thunder as she strode determinedly up to Hermione.

Once she was right in front of her however Pansy seemed to stop and falter. "It…it can't be possible. How could you be that bitch Granger? You're a man!"

Hermione sighed heavily. Why had she even put the charms back on? Why had she continued to deceive everyone else at the reserve? Why had Draco not given her away to McGuiness and the rest of the dragon tamers?

"Pansy," she said gently. "I'm so sorry I deceived you and Draco. I didn't do this because of any personal grudge. I just wanted to be a dragon tamer, and none of the agencies would accept a woman."

But it was as if Pansy had not heard any of what she said. She continued to stare at Hermione, mumbling under her breath. "But it's not possible. You can't be a woman. You don't have breasts…"

She hated having to do this. But Hermione supposed she deserved it on some level, for deceiving everyone. Very, very gently, Hermione took hold of Pansy's wrist. Slowly, she put her hand onto her chest, and Pansy's eyes widened as she felt very clearly the sizable mounds under Hermione's shirt. They weren't very large breasts, but large enough to be significant. "It's a glamour charm," Hermione murmured softly. "It makes it seem as if my chest is flat when it's not. Usually I bind them just in case, but lately I can't find it in me to bother."

Tears inexplicably streamed down Pansy's face, even as she shook her head, not willing to believe the evidence.

"I couldn't…" she choked, "I couldn't believe it when Draco told me. And he was so…so distraught. He was heartbroken. Why was he heartbroken?" She lifted accusing red eyes at Hermione, who shamefully looked away.

After Pansy finally disapparated, Hermione collapsed into one of the visitors' chairs. She was exhausted. She was truly, terribly exhausted. After Draco left, she became numb to all feeling. It was as if her worst fears had been realised, and if she even stopped to think about it, she would collapse from the pain. So instead of chasing after him, instead of telling Harry and Ron, instead of quitting her job or confessing to Rhys, she had calmly applied all the glamour charms, got up and went back to work.

Rhys had been so worried. He had no idea why Draco had run off like that, and he hadn't thought 'Hugh' should continue working after injuries so serious, but Hermione had reassured him that she was well enough. She had also dodged all questions about Draco.

She groaned and put her face in her hands. It had seemed like such a good idea at the beginning. What did she care about lying to Draco, her once enemy, or some chauvinist dragon tamers? But everything was different now. The dragon tamers were her friends, mostly, and Draco was…Draco was…

Mind made up, Hermione got up and left Draco's cottage. She squinted her eyes against the sun as she walked out, and immediately bumped into Robbie, whose tall build blocked out the light, much to her gratitude.

"Whoa! Be careful there, you've got to take it easy Hugh. Go home, get some rest. The bosses are not here after all."

"Bosses?" She looked around, but only saw Fogarty sunning himself lethargically on a bench. "Where's McGuiness?"

"Oh, him?" Robbie said. "Old McGuiness (that is, his father) sacked him."

"Why?" said Hermione, shocked but not exactly unhappy.

"There was an investigation," said a grim-faced Rhys, who walked out of the cottage towards them. "We found out that the sensors showed that the dragon was clearly an adult. He lied to us, probably in the hope of getting us into trouble. He succeeded of course."

Hermione widened her eyes. Well, she certainly hadn't expected that. Well, hadn't expected he would get fired of course (since he seemed rather capable of playing such a mean trick), especially since the owner was his father.

"Oh." Hermione said, suddenly at a lost for what to do. "I wanted to tell him since he was our boss…but I suppose I should tell all of you too."

"Tell us what Hugh?" Rhys looked down at her in concern. "If you need anything at all let us know." He put one hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly.

Honestly, she might as well have shed her disguise already, since obviously none of them treated her like a man.

"I…I have a confession to make. You could say I um…I lied on my CV. It's just that, no one would hire me until I changed that little something…" Hermione said, her voice trailing off as she tried to look anywhere but at her fellow dragon tamers. Alexander, who had been cleaning his boots on the porch looked up curiously, and Rhys and Robbie frowned as they waited for her to continue. Fogarty, as usual, ignored her.

"I'm actually…" she bit her lip, oh Merlin, this was excruciating. Breathing deeply, she steeled herself for their reactions and started once more, chin up and eyes straight ahead. "I'm actually a woman." As she said this, she released the glamour charms, revealing her true self to the men.

Alexander gave a low whistle, and Robbie's eyes bulged out of their sockets. For some reason, Rhys' ears immediately turned a bright red. Much like how Ron's used to change colour whenever Fleur was near by.

"My real name is Hermione Granger. I'm really, really sorry for deceiving all of you. It was not…it was not on purpose or done maliciously. I really just wanted to be a dragon tamer, but none of the agencies would hire me as a woman."

Robbie was the first to speak. "Well…I guess this makes sense. I always thought you were gay though, because you seemed so nervous and dainty around the local girls."

Hermione personally thought that any self-respecting young man would be nervous of those girls, who resembled more blood-seeking basilisks than anything else.

Alexander shrugged. "You do your job well, I can't complain about that."

Rhys seemed to smile to himself. "Can't say I mind really." He looked at her somewhat intensely and Hermione felt herself blush deeply.

"You…you're really not angry at me for deceiving you?" she squeaked nervously.

"No, not really. I suppose we understand. Most of the dragon tamer agencies are still owned by these really old-fashioned men, but there are some of them that are more enlightened, like Charlie Weasley's agency," said Robbie. Something seemed to occur to him as he said this, and he stared at her as recognition dawned on him.

"Granger…aren't you one of the Golden Trio?" If Robbie's eyes bulged anymore they would pop out of his sockets. "You're friends with the famous Harry Potter!"

"Erm…yes, I suppose I am. And I didn't want to join Charlie's group because that would have felt like cheating." She squirmed under their gazes.

Rhys' eyebrows shot up. "Well, blimey. No wonder Malfoy left so quickly. He found out, didn't he?"

She crumpled inwardly. "Yes, you're right."

Rhys realized by her downcast look that he had said the wrong thing, and immediately tried to reassure her that no one minded, and that they would all keep this from old McGuiness. She was grateful for his concern, really. But somehow she knew she had to come completely clean.

So it was on her next weekend break that she found herself paying a visit to McGuiness and Sons in London. She went as a woman, and old McGuiness' snowy-white eyebrows shot further and further up his nearly bald-head as she told him her story.

"Well…" he said, "I never suspected. That was quite a good disguise there gel."

"Thank you?" Hermione said confusedly.

He sighed, and leaned back on his armchair. "Not that I'm very happy at being deceived, but I suppose I had it comin'." He gave her a keen look. "I 'eard from Alexander that you have many inventive and effective ideas for dragon taming. Said you'd take us into the next century."

"R…really? Alexander said that? Well that was very nice of him, and I do have some other ideas I'd be really interested to test out…but…you've been talking to Alexander? I thought only your son reported to you? Alexander does as well?"

He gave her a toothless smile. "Well o' course, he's my nephew after all, on my sister's side. He's a good lad, a good head about him, willing to take on new ideas. I'd always intended to leave my business to him, seeing as how my own son has brains of mash. But he needed to be tested first, and I can tell from his observations that he has good judgment."

"Alexander wants to set up a research division," he continued, "We can't be fallin' behind the Charlie Weasleys of the dragon taming business of course. Would you be willing to be a part of that?"

Hermione's face lit up immediately. "Why of course! I…I would be delighted to!" Then her face fell, "Does that mean I won't be going out into the field again?"

"No gel, of course not! You'll still have to do field work o' course, to get actual samples, observe an' all that, I just thought that it wouldn't do to waste a brain like yours."

She left the meeting smiling from ear to ear.

In another few weeks their job was over. Draco's valuable land was cleared of all dragons, and the magical animals themselves were safely moved to the nearby reserve.

She never did see him after that episode, even though she knew he sometimes came over to perform the ritual that allowed access to the lands. Perhaps he had avoided her, or perhaps she had avoided him. The remaining weeks passed peacefully if depressingly for Hermione. When it was finally time for her to leave, she felt a sadness almost akin to when she, Harry and Ron had left Hogwarts.

"Alright mate?" asked Robbie, as they stood on the threshold of the cottage.

She tried to smile, failed and settled for a sort of grimace instead. "Yes, I suppose."

He saw the look on her face and went over to give her a great big bear hug. "Good working with you Granger! I'll miss you."

Hermione felt his hand travel much lower down her back than it should have. Rolling her eyes, she pinched him hard on his abdomen, causing him to yelp and back away.

"Sorry," he said, shamefaced.

Rhys gave a chuckle and gazed at her speculatively. The man had been acting awfully strangely around her these days. She kept catching him staring at her. Well, she supposed it wasn't unexpected. Perhaps he was not used to her being a girl?

"I'll definitely see you around Hermione," he said, and leaned over to kiss her on her right cheek.

Now _that_ was definitely unexpected. Her ears flamed uncontrollably and she somehow could not meet his eyes.

"Of course!" se said, and laughed nervously. She turned to Alexander, unsure of whether to hug him, and then decided to give him her hand instead. Shaking it firmly, she told him that she looked forward to working with him in a few weeks time, to help set up McGuiness and Sons' research division. He replied that he felt the same.

Life, in a fashion, went back to normal. As she had a few weeks leave from work, Hermione found herself spending a lot of time alone at 12, Grimmauld Place. It felt odd to be the only one there, but Harry was busy at work most of the day, and even Ron was putting in extra hours at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Apparently he was really motivated by his relationship with Barbie, and wanted to work hard so he could set up a home with her! Well, well, she never expected to see the day when Ron grew up.

As expected, Harry and Blaise had made up with each other, and like lovers in their honeymoon stage, spent almost all their time together. Blaise came over to Grimmauld Place a lot and it was just lovely seeing them so happy.

Seeing all these lovers together of course made her feel rather lonely. She caught herself several times thinking of Draco, thinking of something he had said during their time together in Bulgaria, or even wondering about what he was doing at the moment. Was he reading a book? Checking the accounts of his company? Walking around his greenhouse at Malfoy Manor? A sharp pain ran across her heart every time she thought of him, but each time she told herself that it would pass.

Did she ever think about going to see him, to explain everything to him personally? Well of course she did. All the time. But somehow she could not bring herself to. It was as if leaving Bulgaria had put a line under their friendship, relationship, whatever it was they had. He was now Malfoy, not Draco. And she was now Hermione, and not Hugh. Draco and Hugh had disappeared somewhere in the Bulgarian highlands.

To her astonishment, Rhys had shown up on her doorstep one weekend afternoon to ask her out for dinner! Ron had spied on them from around the corridor, and kept nodding his head in approval at what he thought was a far superior man than 'the Ferret'. Harry soon joined him as well and all in all it had been quite embarrassing, but Rhys seemed to take this rather well. In fact, he seemed really enthused to meet Harry, and even waxed lyrical about Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes so much that Ron felt very gratified indeed.

Under Harry's and Ron's urging she finally consented to having dinner with Rhys at an intimate French Muggle restaurant, and was rather pleasantly surprised at the good time she had. Rhys was very easy going, intelligent, and considerate. He listened intently as she went on and on about the seven uses of dragon's dung until she caught herself and stammered an apology, but he just smiled and told her to go on, and told her that he liked listening to her talk.

At the end of dinner, he walked her back home and gave her a very courteous but lingering kiss on her cheek. He left her on the doorstep, touching her cheek wonderingly. She could not help but compare this kiss to the ones she had with Draco. Those kisses had been much more passionate, more intense, but also, more painful.

She shook her head to brush off these thoughts and turned to go into the house.

"So? How'd it go?" asked a very eager looking Ron as he leaned over the back of the sofa in the living room, while kneeling on the seat. Harry grinned at her happily, and she noticed that Blaise was on the couch next to him, his hand over Harry's shoulder.

Merlin, they were worse than her parents! She started to say something before Blaise abruptly stood up, causing Harry to sigh slightly in exasperation. "Granger…Hermione, could I speak to you alone?"

She raised her eyebrows at him before giving her consent. Ron kept looking between the two of them in confusion. She noticed that Blaise had been very quiet these few days. Not that he wasn't usually quiet, but he seemed more contemplative than usual.

"Harry told me not to say anything, but this is one of the few instances where I disagree with him," he said, as he leaned against the marble-topped table.

"Please go on," she said, now rather warily. She knew that this had something to do with Draco, and while she found herself eager to hear any news of him, she was also afraid.

"The wedding has been brought forward. He's going to marry Pansy next Saturday."

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A/N: Ok I lied when I said this was the last chapter, there will be one more (and also in JK Rowling fashion, an epilogue). I hope all of you enjoyed this chapter, thank you for reading and reviewing!

A/N 2: I discovered recently that Tom Felton sings. He has several singles on iTunes and they're all pretty good! I quite like "If That's All Right With You".


	17. Dragon Tamer

**Disclaimer: Not making any money off of this…**

**Chapter 17: Dragon Tamer**

"Draco you've got to stop this."

The man in question looked up angrily, his silky blond hair was disheveled and his necktie was askew. He looked as though he had not seen his bed in days. "I told you, I've made up my mind, and nothing you say is going to change it!"

A shadow fell across his face, and Blaise sighed and sat down next to Draco on the leather ottoman in the darkened room.

"Why am I in the middle of this?" Blaise muttered to himself.

He breathed deeply and turned to him again, even as Draco swirled his firewhiskey with the same dogged determination as when he had tried to find a way to murder Dumbledore.

"Are you sure you're doing the right thing?"

Draco clenched his jaw in frustration and Blaise put up one hand, "Wait, let me continue. I'm saying this not just as your friend, but Pansy's too. I don't want you to string her along for the rest of your life. If you don't love her, now's the time to do something about it."

Draco scoffed loudly, "Does it really matter? Love is not everything."

"Why are you always doing this!" Blaise burst out so explosively that even Draco leaned back slightly in fear.

His stern dark face loomed ominously in the fire-lit room. "Don't lie to me Draco. You can lie to everyone else, to yourself even, but don't lie to me. Don't repeat the same mistakes you've made your entire life."

"And yes, love is everything. Don't – don't argue with me!" he said, as Draco started to speak again. "Your parents love you! They love you more than life itself. And you love them, and, oddly enough, they love each other. How can you say love isn't everything? How can you want to be with someone you don't love?"

A log fell in the fireplace and crackled as orange sparks flew in the air. Both men stared at each other, daring the other to break down. It was Draco who finally capitulated, as he had always done.

"Because the person I love deceived me! I trusted him! Her, whatever. I told her everything, and she lied to me! Kept lying to me!"

"You know that she didn't do that to hurt you! Didn't even Pansy tell you she only pretended to be a man so she could be a dragon tamer?"

"Well yes she did but so what? I can't…I don't want to see her, I don't want to talk to her!"

"Blimey Malfoy, and I thought you weren't a coward!"

Draco stood up immediately, snatched up his wand, and pointed it shakily at Blaise. A vein in his forehead jumped. "Did you just call me a coward?"

Blaise laughed derisively. "Yes, I did. And no I'm not taking that back. The truth hurts, doesn't it? This has got to be the most cowardly thing you've ever done. It's so obvious I don't know why I didn't realise it sooner. You're afraid that she had been pretending to like you all this while. You're afraid that everything she had said and done in Bulgaria was a lie. You think she doesn't love you, can never love you. And so you're running away and hiding."

Draco gave a tired groan and slammed down his drink. "Merlin be damned Blaise! You're…you're right, okay? I really can't deal with this! I can't think, I can't sleep. Pansy's going crazy and so am I! I'm tired of all this, I really am, so can you just leave me alone!"

"Harry said that she loved you," Blaise said simply, ignoring his rant.

Draco turned to look at him so quickly he knocked his glass of firewhiskey over. Cursing as the golden liquid dripped onto the carpet, he performed a quick scourgifying spell even as he avoided looking at his friend.

Finally, he sat back down into the gilt sofa, put his head in his hands and sighed.

"Does she?" he asked softly.

"Well she did, before she got hurt by the dragon. Recently this bloke Rhys has been sniffing around the house, so I don't know whether she still feels the same anymore."

Draco gave a weak chuckle. "I knew that man was up to no good."

Blaise sat as still as a statue. He had done all he could, and now it was up to Draco and Hermione to sort out their problems.

"What should I do, Blaise?" Draco whispered. "Tell me what should I do?"

00000

To say that Blaise's news was an unwelcome shock was an understatement. Yes, she knew they were engaged, and yes, theoretically that wedding would come sooner or later, but hearing an actual date, one that seem to approach with the speed of a bullet train brought a leaden weight into her stomach, one that didn't seem to go away no matter what she did.

Every day she would look at her muggle calendar, as if counting down the days to when the inevitable would arrive. Draco and Pansy would get married. They would have blond, beautiful pureblood children, and she would pine after him for the rest of her life.

_What was she thinking?_ She berated herself ever so often. She had known this would happen! Known it from the moment she admitted her love for him. She knew how he would react, and he hadn't disappointed. Of course he had been horrified, and of course she deserved whatever recriminations he broached on her.

Ron had been of the opinion that she forget all about Draco. "Let the two marry! They deserve each other after all!" he had said carelessly when he found out the news.

Harry's reaction had been more circumspect. While he personally thought Hermione would be better off without Malfoy, he knew the depth of her feeling for him, and so was torn between slagging off Blaise for revealing the news, and wanting to support Hermione in whatever she planned to do.

And all the while, Hermione just wanted to scream at herself for not saying anything to Draco sooner. _Perhaps if she had shored up her courage and gone to Malfoy Manor to explain…_But no, what use would that have been? He wouldn't have wanted to see her, or he would have laughed at her for daring to think that he could actually love or forgive her. And so the following week was spent in constant, agonising circular contemplation, with Hermione seesawing between wanting to meet with him, and wanting to forget everything that had occurred.

It was close to three am on Saturday morning when, unable to sleep, she trooped out to the kitchen for a mug of warm milk. Bleary eyed, she sat down in her woolen night robe, not thinking about anything in particular.

A voice in the darkness made her jump in her seat.

"It's not too late."

"Sorry?" she said, as she jerked her head up to look at Harry.

"I mean…if you really do love him. It's not too late. It never is."

Something about Harry always brought out her maternal instinct, and this time she could not help but melt against him. "Oh Harry," she said as he hugged her back fiercely. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

00000

He walked silently into the darkened oak-paneled room, guilty and sorrowful about what he was about to do. Outside, it had begun to rain heavily, and the darkened sky reflected the oppressive mood at the Manor.

"Pansy?"

"Yes, dear?" she asked quietly as she looked out the rain-stained window. For a moment he was nonplussed. He had never seen her so subdued.

He stopped in his tracks. He was about to do the unforgivable to someone who, while he no longer loved in a romantic way, still loved as a good friend or even a sister. Merlin knew they had grown up with each other, spent all the significant milestones of their young adult lives together, and now that she was ready to take that next step together, he found himself unable to move.

"I'm so sorry," he said, as he shook his head and tried not to cry. "I can't do it. I'm so sorry."

She turned around and looked at him, resplendent in her fairy-tale white wedding dress, hair and skin gleaming. She had never looked more beautiful.

Instead of flying at him in a rage however, Pansy only sighed in resignation. "Well, I'm not that surprised. You've always loved her."

He replied without thinking. "What do you mean I've always loved her? I've always hated her!"

She smiled at him gently, and reached over to tuck a stray hair behind his ear, for the last time.

"There's a fine line, my dear, between love and hate."

00000

_It's not too late. _

Those were the words Hermione kept repeating over and over in her head as she ran towards the Manor.

_It's not too late. _

She had thought to apparate closer but by Merlin's bloody socks, the Malfoys had erected an anti-apparition charm a mile radius around the Manor for security. Invited guests (like Blaise) arrived directly into the warm entrance by portkey. Drenched like a sewer rat, she ran for all she was worth while cursing under her breath.

_It's not too late._

But it was cold, and she was wet, and miserable. So what if she turned up? She kept asking herself. What could she do anyway? Do her best impression of a weak prey in a nest full of snakes? Her hair was matted flat against her skull and her clothes dragged with rainwater. Each step forward felt like hell.

_It's not too late._

And she felt horrible too. She was a terrible person. How could she even think of doing this to Pansy? She knew how dependent she was on Draco. She knew how this would devastate her. She was a woman too, and had had her fair share of heartbreak. How could she inflict this on someone else?

She stopped and bent to put her hands on her thighs to catch her breath. The rain continued to fall, and so did her tears.

She should stop and turn back. No one wanted her at Malfoy Manor. It was to be a happy event and she had no right to ruin it. She had her chance, and it was her fault for not taking it.

But for some reason she could not move. She could not go forward, but neither could she bear to turn back. She stood in the pouring rain as thunder resounded and lightning cracked.

"Hugh – Granger!" said a voice. "What…what are you doing here?" Firm hands shook her, and she looked up half in fright and half in curiosity.

Oh…it was him. Her mouth opened in an "O" of surprise. After all that agonizing over what to do, here he was in front of her. For a moment she did not know what to say. What should she say? "Run away with me"? "Leave your fiancée, and come with me, a mudblood who's best friends with Harry Potter"?

"Granger, say something!"

"I…I…" she wanted to say that she loved him. But the thought of saying, "I love you" to Draco Malfoy was so absurd she didn't know where to begin.

She did her best impression of a goldfish as her mouth opened and closed several times.

Draco finally growled in frustration. "You…you ridiculous woman!"

"Excuse me?" she asked sharply, looking him in the eye for the first time. His insult had raised her ire, as it usually did.

"So you finally say something, after standing in the rain like you've lost your mind? Do you have any idea how crazy you've made me? How crazy you've made me all these years?"

"Wha -?" she spluttered, dumbstruck.

"I obsessed about all of you for years. Years! I was so jealous of you, of your success. I detested your intelligence, your popularity, your beauty…I wanted you to…I wanted you to notice me. I wanted all of you to notice me." He laughed brokenly. "You all seemed to have so much fun. And you, your skin…" He chuckled to himself, a slightly deranged laugh that caused Hermione to stare at him in concern. "But how could I? You were everything I had been taught to hate."

She opened her mouth to speak, but he interrupted her brusquely. "I'm not done Granger!"

He breathed heavily, and continued softly. "And then I fell in love with you all over again, in Bulgaria. Of course, at the time, I hadn't known who you were. It drove me mad all this time, thinking I was gay."

"You…what?"

"I never wanted this," he said, shaking his head, "I don't know which was worse, thinking I was gay, or finding out I was in love with Hermione Granger!"

"Which was worst?" she said dangerously, all sympathy and mirth for his confusion over his sexuality gone. "You thought you were going mad? Did you have any idea how I felt? I fell in love with my enemy! And I did that, knowingly!"

"And I hate this," she said, as her face screwed up and she started to cry, salty tears mixing with the rain water as it streamed down her face. "I hate that I love you so much. I hate that I'm willing to overlook everything else that is repugnant about you. Your past, your distaste for muggles, your family, your hatred of my friends; why can't I love someone more suitable?"

"Oh sod it!" he growled finally, and created an invisible shield above their heads, which stopped the rain's descent on them.

They stared at each other, chests heaving with anger and frustration. And then slowly, unstoppably, he held her face in his hands gently, and then he kissed her.

The kiss was not tender, and the two of them fought constantly for dominance, kissing each other hard, fast, and bruisingly. She tangled her hands in his hair, and he moved his hands slowly, deliberately down her body to cup her bottom, moaning her name, _Hermione_, over and over again like a prayer as he did so.

They suddenly broke apart and stared at each other cautiously, as if the other were a deer they would frighten away at any moment. Then they smiled. They knew it would not be easy, would not be simple, and might not even last. Everyday would be a challenge the likes of which they had never encountered. But it didn't matter. For she had him, and he had her, and they would fight for this, and they would not be separated so easily.

There was an unspoken promise in both their eyes. They would give as good as they got, and there would be no turning back.

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**Epilogue**

Hermione and Draco didn't live "happy-ever-after". Not really. There were fights, arguments on how to bring up their son, frequent bust-ups on 'who did what at the war', and unequivocal parental disapproval. But they were happy. And never looked back for the rest of their lives.

After the whole fiasco, Pansy took a sabbatical in sunny Greece, where she found more than enough handsome men, both muggle and wizard, willing to take over Draco's place. She learned to be independent and secure in whom she was, and eventually married a rich and gracious Italian gentleman, who she easily twirled around her little finger.

Harry finally went out of the closet, shocking the entire Wizarding World, and breaking many a witch's heart. Blaise moved into 12, Grimmauld Place, and they lived a happy and contented life together. They adopted two children, and with Blaise's guidance, avoided the kind of clichéd names Harry would normally have thought of. They are often seen strolling down Diagon Alley with their children hand in hand, a rolled-up newspaper tucked under Harry's arm.

Ron never got back his full powers. He eventually married Barbie, and was finally promoted to full-partner at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. He never got around to telling his wife about the Wizarding World however, and to this day, she still thinks he is mentally impaired.

As do we all.

END

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A/N: I hope all of you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. It took a long while, and it was because of your encouragements and praise that kept me going. I am really grateful that you decided to read this fic, thank you for following it these past three years!


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